To outline or not to outline...

At my writing conference, author Royce Buckingham mentioned how, when writers edit, it hurts so very much because they have to cut so much of their own beautiful writing. It feels like they're killing their children. So, he asked the question, "How do you avoid killing your children?" The answer: Don't have unwanted children!

In other words, if you have an outline, your writing won't wander all over the place. You won't have to cut much because you can stick to your plan. He also compared using an outline for writing a novel to using a plan to build a house. When he built his house, he didn't have to cut out huge rooms he'd already built. There were a few surprises along the way, and some small changes, but no expensive room-wrecking catastrophes.

I wrote (most of) my first two novels with no plan. It was fun to take a big journey without knowing where I'd end up. And what artist wants to limit their work by boring old boundaries? I've been pleasantly surprised by where it's taken me. I know where the Rocky book is headed, even though I haven't finished writing it yet, and I love how different parts are all coming together. How very Margaret Atwood of me.

But there are disadvantages, too. There have been moments where I didn't know what was coming next. I'd sit at the computer and nothing would come to me until I left the computer and sat down with a notebook to brainstorm ideas. Staring at a computer screen and feeling uninspired can be very discouraging.

So for the third novel, I'm going to try to outline and research first. I don't know whether or not it will work. But here's my guess. I think writing will go faster. I think it will save me time on revisions because there will be fewer plot inconsistencies. I think there will still be surprises. I'm worried that the manuscript will lose some spontaneity, and that my creativity (especially for non-plot aspects) will be hampered. We'll see. I won't get to it for awhile, but I'm excited to find out how outlining affects the writing process.

Story, story, story

I have lots and lots to say about the writers' conference I just attended. Let me start with a question I came away with. The impression I left with was this: story is to publishing what location is to real estate. Everybody was talking about how words are secondary to the story. I get that you can't write a novel without a good story. But to me, a great story is not always what draws me in.

I don't like much of the plot-driven stuff that's out there. It's not all badly written, either. But if it's short on character development or has awkward transitions or clunky phrases or even if the words are bland, I get bored. I admit I still sometimes can't put the book down if the plot is exciting, but that's not what makes me love a book.

It's the art. It's the words.

I love classics like Middlemarch that make me think about human relationships. I love the great Russian authors who make me think about philosophical questions. I love books like Atonement just for their beautiful prose.

Make me think, make me cry, make me dream. Then the book will stay with me for longer than it takes me to read it. I like books that change me. And the story, well, to me that's almost background information. The plot is more like a supporting character. Story has to be there, of course, and it has to be well developed, but I don't care about the story if you can't make me care about the characters, if you can't help me learn something or force me to get out my everyday world and relate to it differently.

Today, an agent looked at some of my descriptive phrases and said to me, "Why should I care?" Good question. I've been thinking about it ever since. The answer is, "Because it's pretty! Because it paints a picture!" I'm not saying she was wrong. I've got to rip the entire manuscript to shreds anyway. But this train of thought led me to another question. Are pretty words enough? Does sheer beauty make a work of art matter?

I'm not saying I'm Tolstoy, and you certainly would know I'm not if you read my first draft. I'm just asking the question because I like imagery. I like my prose almost poetic. The fast-paced stuff doesn't interest me unless there's some other compelling draw.

Like so many things, the truth is probably somewhere in the middle. But what do you think? Is story king or is there more to the story for you?

A writer's work is never done

My oh-so-perceptive writing group was right on target with the first chapter I brought for them to read last week. I probably should have waited until I was finished my draft before showing it to them. And here's why: they reminded me of how much there is to do.
It's not that they were super critical or unfair or even unbalanced. It's just that they were right. And, looking at the flaws in the first chapter, I could see how I've carried some of those faults right through the entire manuscript. We're talking serious voice issues here. It's not easy to pretend to be a fifteen-year-old boy, folks. Especially a sarcastic, funny, crass, hormonal boy with attitude.
Except for the funny part. I can do that. I'm HILARIOUS. Have you ever read my blog?
They didn't dwell so much on my other serious issue--plot. For some reason, when you write a novel, you're supposed to have stuff happen. And it's supposed to make sense. When I write, I just fly. I don't plan ahead and I don't edit until after I'm done. In some ways, that's good because it allows my thoughts to come through uninhibited. In other ways, it's a pain because my plot (and my subplots) wander all over the place. I don't focus enough on the stuff that matters, and I get too wrapped up in secondary characters.
Now it's that much harder to write, knowing I have so much to fix. Imagine you plant a field. Then a professional farmer comes along and tells you some of the rows are in the right place, but now that you've got everything planted, you've got to pull up about 3/4 of the plants, re-sod a quarter of your field, and then double the size of your field somewhere else. It's enough to make me not even want to finish planting the field.

No NaNoWriMo for me

If you are unfamiliar with this glorious acronym, NaNoWriMo stands for National Novel Writing Month. In other words, it's a bunch of people who commit online to make themselves crazy with words for about thirty days. Being the kind of person I am (i.e., the kind who enjoys giving herself impossible tasks just to see if she can do them), I considered it. I have an idea for a third novel I'm excited to write. But (sigh) there are lots of reasons it just won't work this year.
I'm committed to attend our local SCBWI writer's conference, which takes place in November. I am getting close to the end of my WIP--almost 200 pages. Then there are revisions for that manuscript as well as a major overhaul of the first novel. I'm not going to get anywhere if I can't finish the projects I already have underway. Plus I have a nine-month-old. I can write eight or so pages some days, but when I do, it's a fluke. I have never been able to keep that kind of pace consistently. You could argue that it's because I haven't committed to do so. And you'd be right. But I just don't want to deal with that kind of insanity this year.

recent quotes from kiddos

L: Mom, I'm never going to get that toy. I wasn't built to be good for three days. I was only built to be good for two days.

K: (seeing a random pen mark on my shirt) Mom, we don't draw on people, we draw on paper. Remember that story?

Baby speaks

This clip is about two weeks old. I've already bragged about her first word, so now you can see proof.

Stress

Chalk this one up under "Things Nobody Warned Me About". Motherhood is stressful.
Who'da thunk it? I mean, don't mothers sit around all day in their housecoats and curlers watching soap operas? And since millions of women have done it for who knows how many years, it can't be that hard, can it?
Truth is, motherhood is more like taking a triple course load in a never-ending semester.
Let's discuss.
1. Money. Unless you finally managed to find a nursery that carries money trees, there is just never going to be enough. You can scrimp all you like, but your kids keep growing and eating and wanting toys. And they don't particularly appreciate it if you buy their shoes three sizes too big in order to economize.
2. Time. Another luxury triple-load college students hoard, judging by how little of it is left over for me. I'm not even talking about not having time for those cutesy little crafty hobbies those home-schooling mothers of eight seem to create out of thin air. I don't even have time to keep the house clean. I've been meaning to clean out the diaper pail for days, for example. And the dusting? There are some cabinets I haven't dusted since we moved in. When I actually have a moment to myself, the list of things to do is longer than the grocery check-out line. But usually going to the bathroom is first on the list. As I like to tell my kids, peeing is a priority.
3. Physical space. Sometimes, when I'm sitting at the computer, I move my elbows, just for the sheer joy of it.
4. Auditory space. When the kids are in bed and my ears stop ringing, I sometimes complete a whole thought in my head.
5. Oh, the pressure. Everybody thinks they know how to raise kids, especially magazine articles (5 simple ways to end temper tantrums) and people who don't have any. They also know how your house should look, how to produce the behavior you want, how to be a great wife, how not to lose your temper with your kids, how not to get them to turn out to be serial killers. So you feel like you don't measure up to the people who know better, even when "they" don't agree.
6. Oh, the frustration. How many times can you tell your child not to throw the toilet paper in the toilet until they get it? Why do you flap your lips up and down to suggest to your kid that telling you what's bothering him is far more productive than screaming? Why do you make dinner so that he can tell you how icky lasagna is and that you have to make him mac and cheese instead?
7. Oh, the built-up anger. See above. Then add kids whacking each other, bossing their parents around, pulling the cat's fur, biting you, and see how long you provide an example of productive ways to handle your emotions.
Then add cutesy little jokes from well-meaning clueless people about how little sleep or appreciation you get, how it's all worth it, how they wouldn't trade the time they spent at home with the kids for anything, etc. Really? That's too bad because if they want more of it, they can borrow a couple of my kids for a few hours.
Then take a deep breath (or a day off) and remind yourself that people who have actually survived parenthood say that it all passes, sooner than you'd think. Promise yourself that somehow you will live through it, too.