Writer's Block, Schmiter's Schmock

I've decided writer's block is, nine times out of ten, just a lame excuse for laziness.

Ouch. I'm sure there are folks out there who think I'm being snobbish or harsh, but let me add I'm being harsh to myself as well in the above statement.

Let's face it: Usually when writer's block strikes, the writer/sufferer has reached a scene in the story that is particularly difficult. Or they are having a hard time figuring out how to connect Scene A to Scene D. Or the plot has gotten so tangled the writer just can't seem to find a way to unravel it.

That's where a simple yet painful solution presents itself: Just plow ahead. Go ahead and keep writing. Yeah, you'll write crap, but you can go back and fix crap later. More often than not, just forging ahead will bring you to a solution sooner than you anticipate. It's just a lot of effort at first.

Think about this, too: Usually, when you really blast ahead on your writing, you're writing a scene or scenes that are exciting, cool. You enjoy writing them. And it would stand to reason that readers will find those scenes cool as well. But what about the scenes that stop you dead in your tracks? Most often they're scenes that aren't as interesting, maybe even scenes you've been dreading. Well, if you can't enjoy writing the scene, it's likely your readers will have just as much difficulty reading it.

The fix? Go ahead, tackle the scene, get it over with. Yeah, it'll be awful. For now, who cares? Make a note to redo it later, then keep on to the fun stuff. But in the meantime, ponder that irksome scene. Why was it so horrible? How can you make it better? What role does it play in the story? What twists and hooks and teasers can you insert to make readers salivate? When you're in the right frame of mind, break the scene down and reshape and recast it. Your story is your clay. Don't let it get the best of you -- you're the potter. You call the shots.

I'm writing this to myself as much as to everyone else. There are so many times I've caught myself wallowing in the throes of "I can't do it", and I've had to slap myself silly and send myself back to the front lines of the battle.

Have there been legitimate causes for writer's block? Sure. But as I said, nine times out of ten, "writer's block" is just a cool term we use for "giving up".

Write a poem. Take a walk. Play with the kids. Mow the lawn. Read a book. Then come back and give that "writer's block" a whoopin'.

Okay, I'm done with the pep talk. Time to get some writing done.

Story Ingredients

A nerd, a punk, a jock, a highschool football star, and the star's girlfriend. Oh, and a Senator. That's the goofy blend I'm stirring for my current book-in-progress.

I love mixing characters together. It's just like cooking. You take a bunch of completely disparate ingredients and mix 'em together. Sometimes you do it with a specific goal in mind. Sometimes you do it just to see what you come up with. Sometimes ingredients work peacefully together and blend well. Sometimes they froth and hiss and bubble -- not liking the combination but still working together to make the recipe turn out.

And sometimes the combination fails entirely. You toss out the whole mess and start over.

My wife loves cooking, and I think she and anyone else who cooks can get this analogy.

Writing is the same way, I realize. You try mixing together certain characters, plot ideas, and other elements, and see what happens. When it works out, it's a delight. When it doesn't . . . hit "delete" and try again.

I wonder if I should start calling myself a cook. A story chef, perhaps? That sounds more impressive.

Cheap Date

I'll admit it up front: I'm a man of simple pleasures.

I get a kick out of things to which most folks probably can't relate. Part of it may be that, aside from going to work, I don't get out a whole lot these days, thanks to having two kids under the age of three and a pregnant wife who (this time around) is constantly exhausted, in pain, and/or nauseated. So when I do get to enjoy something, it's usually pretty low-key stuff.

Like yesterday. I wrote over 2700 words on my most recent literary endeavor while waiting to punch in at work, on my breaks, and when I got home. That's despite having a little boy who's gotten into "crashing", which is his term for spinning around the room, flopping against me as hard as he can, bouncing off, and taking it personally if he hurts himself.

2700 words. 2711, to be exact. I think it's a pretty big deal. My wife and my brother, when I bragged to them, nodded and smiled and gave me a "Wow, that's awesome" -- the same way you praise and agree with an insane person so he won't go ballistic and hurt somebody.

Some folks just can't relate.

It's a good feeling though, when you're writing fiction and you surpass the 1000-word mark. Typically, writing more than a couple hundred words can be a massive labor. So when you nail 2700, you feel like you've been flying. It means the story is coming together. The characters are working out their kinks. The dialogue is flowing better. Plot lines are evolving and moving forward without any major issues. And you're that much closer to typing "THE END".

It's great. Time to celebrate . . . Maybe treat myself to a little down time with closed eyes, music, and a pair of headphones.

But only for a little bit. When the story is flowing like that, a writer needs to ride the wave as long as possible.

Kowabunga!

Out Of Breath

One of the things I love about a good adventure novel or thriller is the escalation.

The story starts with a problem. The characters must solve the problem. As they work to solve the problem, it evolves and builds into a bigger and bigger dilemma through a series of new developments, failures, mistakes, and sabotage. Like a snowball careening down a hill, the action and suspense grow and grow until finally, a mere chapter from the end of the book, the hero(s) avert the ultimate disaster that threatens to annihilate them all. And when the story ends you realize you've been holding your breath the entire time.

Good stuff.

That's the kind of fiction I like to write. But I've learned it's so much work. The original idea usually isn't good enough, so when you finish the first draft you have to go back, add scenes and thread and storylines, remove others, and make all sorts of things introduce themselves at the beginning and add together by the end to create a "wow" ending.

When I write stuff like that, I develop even more respect for authors such as Michael Crichton. Man, that guy could put a person on the edge of their seat and keep them teetering there. When I think of writing thrillers and adventure novels, that's the guy I point to and say, "I wanna be like him."

Usually, it involves putting the protagonist in a harrowing situation, then sitting back and wondering, "Hmm . . . how can I make the dilemma even worse?"

Reference my previous posting. I am very cruel to my characters. But that's the nature of the beast.

And the cool part is, once it's finished and all the strings come together, the author experiences quite the feeling of accomplishment.

Now to work on some pesky story threads . . . .

Nothin' Personal -- Jus' Good Bidness

I really fall in love with my characters, even the bad ones. I love getting together with them. They tell me what to do; they take me on a wild and wonderful trip.  -- Jackie Collins

I feel sorry for my characters.

That old saying that a writer becomes attached to his or her characters is true. The imaginary person takes on dimensions and traits and personalities that evolve over the course of the story, and by the time you get done you've come to appreciate the character as if he or she is a living, breathing person. As you type the last words of the manuscript, you experience an odd combination of regret that the story-journey is over and sadness that you may not ever get to work with this character again.

Unless the story becomes a series . . . but let's think realistically here.

But here's why I feel sorry for my characters.

I create them, sort of like God. I conceive them in my mind. I mold them out of the clay of my imagination. I set their life course with character sketches and plot lines. And then I set them free to follow their lives, to grow and develop.

But I'm also a cruel god to my characters. Without conflict, there is no story. And my characters encounter lots of conflict. I bash them around, frighten them, destroy their lives, send them into danger, maim them, make them fight each other, freeze them, cook them, starve them . . . and eventually (at least, in the case of many) kill them off. Only a few come through to see a happy ending, but not without going through a lot of misery beforehand.

I should actually feel guilt that I've been so mean. Relief that the ordeal is over for those who survived. Pity for the characters in my next work of fiction.

And sometimes, such as now, I do feel a certain amount of sympathy for what they go through.

I love them -- but I certainly have a funny way of showing it.