Three Things I Have to Say About Writing this Week
• Writing a Scene So I Can Rewrite the Scene
So this week I had to write this hell of a scene. It was painful. Not the subject matter, no—the subject was just a few people in a room, talking. But I guess the reason that’s why it was so hellish; I had a lot of information to convey, and I had to somehow make it interesting. And it had to sound realistic. And the three people in the room all had to stay in character. And it had to not sound like an information dump.
What I’m saying is, writing this scene was hell. I had to push through it, word by word, until I was finished. The only thing that carried me through was the fact that I knew I could rewrite the damn thing. In face, partway into the scene I knew I’d be rewriting it.
Which made the process an entirely different thing. I was suddenly writing the scene in order to get to the point where I could rewrite the scene. Once I realised that this time was just practise, it became a lot easier to get through it. The pressure was off.
And that, I suppose, is the takeaway: writing the zero draft is so much easier when I remember that I don’t have to get it right the first time. The first time is just rehearsal. The next draft is when it finally has a chance to get good.
• Paging Dr. Exposition
Talking of information dumps, this week it finally dawned on me that I’ve been studying—without intending to—the way high-density-plotted television shows deal with exposition. I have no idea how long that’s been going on, but I’ve been watching Burn Notice as I work and it was suddenly clear to me that’s something I was doing.
In some episodes they do a really good job at smoothly introducing information (or reiterating old) into the scene without it dragging down the pace or being ridiculously obvious. (Hello, Dr. Exposition. Here to tell me what we know?) Other times, it’s like a big fucking neon arrow going, “INFO DUMP HERE”. It’s helpful for me to pay attention to the details of both as I start transitioning into writing far more plot-driven stories and fewer character-driven stories: what works and what doesn’t, how to do better at introducing information through dialogue without it sounding too clunky, and whether I can get practised enough at it that it stops being so arduous and starts being second-nature.
It’s yet another instance of cross-training—learning about storytelling for short stories/novels by learning about storytelling through other media like television and film—which is something I feel like bleat about all the time, but which has turned out to be immensely helpful for me so far. And who knows. It might be helpful for you, too.
• Playing Nice with Circadian Rhythms
I’m getting older. I hate to admit it, but it’s true: I’m getting older. It has its perks, but on the whole it’s bullshit.
In point of fact, I’m getting older and I’m dealing with some health stuff, which means that my sleep schedule, much as I fight against it, is changing. This week, for example, no matter what time I go to sleep I always wake up at 6:30am—which for me is ridiculously early. I’m one of those people who is used to seeing 6:30 more often from the nighttime end than from the daytime end.
I’m lucky enough to be able to make my own schedule, so I decided to just roll with it. Get up at what-the-fuck-is-this-o’clock, make some tea, and sit down to write. Unfortunately—fortunately?—it’s turned out to be a really good idea. I’ve regularly tallied just slightly above my daily wordcount, and my inner editor has been almost quiescent. (He’s probably sleeping. Asshole.) I haven’t gone back to read this week’s work yet since I’ve been writing a zero draft and I save that nonsense until revising for the first draft, but they feel like good words, flowing words, with some colourful imagery I might not have set down if I hadn’t been tired as fuck. I’m actually looking forward to working on the first draft. Contrast this with my writing at night, and there’s no comparison; morning writing has been way better than night-time writing.
I write, and I drink my tea, and then when I’m finished I take a nap before getting on with the next task for the day. It’s kind of fantastic.
All this is to say that working with, instead of against, my natural rhythms has been a lesson in humility. I once took pride in being a night owl, creating until dawn, but nothing is more certain than change, and this week was a sign that perhaps I would do well to accept this change instead of fighting against it. I’ve got thousands of words in the bank that prove this to be true.
*********
Anyway. Have you had a lesson in accepting the realities of your writing situation? Have you noticed something in a film or a television programme that you’d like to take on board in your writing? How has the ability to rewrite helped you this week? What have you been struggling against or victorious over? How’s your writing going? Let me know.
And then have some useful writing advice/process talk on the heels of my bitching!