Could this be the cover of my new book? Image courtesy of Paul Downey

Now I’m not going to throw any spoilers around regarding what it is I’m reading or who I’m talking about, but I was just happily reading along when one of the characters got killed. And I didn’t like that. Not one bit. It wasn’t a main character or anything, but the fact that she got killed, and how it ‘just happened’ threw me for a loop. I guess it’s a success on the authors part that I came to care about the character enough to feel hurt and betrayed that she got offed. It wasn’t exactly a ratings grabber either. Not the kind of ‘shock killing’ that shows like 24 and Spooks are so fond of. It wasn’t a cheap death. But it got me thinking about the subject.

Charactericide

Now I’ve developed a bit of a reputation amongst my non-writerly friends as someone who gets a little slash happy when it comes to my characters. Which is actually very unlike me. Because I do get attached to characters and while I am willing to put them through several degrees of torture, I’m reluctant to kill them off. To the degree I will bring them back from the dead if possible. I should start writing comics.

I guess I shouldn’t use the term ‘shock killing’. Because any time a character gets killed should be a shock. As I said above, shows like 24 seems to have an almost sadistic disrespect for the value of human life. People get killed left right and centre all to drag the plot out, in increasingly contrived ways. Don’t get me wrong, I love 24, but when death is treated as a plot device it loses impact. I do think Spooks handles it a little better, at least in the early season’s, before it became an ‘how do we kill off the main character spectacularly’ competition. Cheap Death is something that should be avoided altogether.

Writing Death

I had this kind of experience when I was throwing around ideas with myself about something I’m working on. It was just an offhand idea about killing one of my characters and the method. Like I say, just idle speculation. But the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. And it wasn’t a cheap death either, or something to move the plot along, it’s just the characters were in this situation, and it unfolded in a particular way and it just made sense. And I was shocked by this. Not so much because I’d grown attached to the character, and didn’t want to see this person die, but more because I felt the impact that this death would have, and the affect it might have on the reader.

If you’re like me, and you write ‘big’ things (sci-fi in my case) where character death is likely (I’m not talking about crime thrillers here, where death is absolutely necessary) then fine-tuning death mechanics is a skill that needs to be practiced. I’ll admit, I write different types of sci-fi, but the situations tend to be the same, the characters are in a near constant state of high peril. Of course, the most necessary element here is – if you’re going to kill a character off – then make it matter to the reader. There are other occasions (aside from the one I mentioned above) where a character has been killed, and it’s had an impact on me. And this is, I think, the biggest failure of 24. Because we don’t really care about the characters. When they die it isn’t a surprise, and even if it is, it loses the impact.

I’ve never really thought about it in terms of my own writing, because like I say, I’m very reluctant to kill characters off. The point I guess I’m trying to make is to create characters that you care about, or more importantly that the reader will care about, and see how it feels to kill them off. Because if killing them off doesn’t have that much of an impact, then the character isn’t successful, right? I guess the only exception to this rule is if the character is deliberately bad (I am hesitant to use the word evil) and their death is cathartic.

Just whatever you do, don’t make the character an annoying f***wit, because honestly, those guys can’t die quick enough for my liking.

So for that person, sorry about that.

Anyway, here we are in that strange place between Christmas and New Year, a perfect time for reminiscing. So I picked out some GMW posts from the year that was 2011, for the pleasure of your reading receptacles:

• Bad Influence
• Journalling Without The Journal?
• Looking at your Earliest Writing
• A New Years Plan
• The People of The Social Network
• Speed Anxiety
• What Game of Thrones can Teach us
• Why Dieting is like Becoming a Writer
• Writers are Superheroes
• Writing with a Baby

So there you have it – some fine posts to spend your new year with! I will see you in 2012, which I’m sure we can make a great writing year for all of us!

If there were infinite monkeys and infinite typewriters, how long would it take them to get bored with your writing project? Image courtesy of Chris Devers.

This is not the first time I’ve felt bored with what I’m doing, although it normally comes well into the editing process rather than the first draft stage! It might be that the idea has been rattling around in my head for a while and by the time I get it down on paper I’ve already grown bored of it. I think that while I have to have a full time job there’s no avoiding that though. I simply don’t have time to squeeze all of my ideas out into a first draft before the next five come along (considering I have often felt like I don’t have many ideas anymore, that’s rather encouraging).

Having an ideas journal helps a little I think. I’m not constantly thinking of and developing lots of ideas in my head. Instead I think of it, write it down, and can forget about it relatively quickly until I need it again.

I do inevitably start looking towards the next project when I’m nearing the end of a current project though. It’s the anticipation (as well as the apprehension) of starting something new, like when I examine my bookshelf when there’s a few pages left of my current read. And often the end of a project is so drawn out for me, there’s still plenty of time to over-think the next one.

It is often said that if you are bored writing a story, your reader will be bored when they come to read it. I don’t think that’s untrue, but I do think it is somewhat overstated. The implication is that if you’re bored with something you should go on to something else and abandon it. I have enough trouble finishing things as it is, thanks!

No. Although I do believe that a bored writer makes a bored reader, that doesn’t mean that your boring writing isn’t fixable. You can still go back to it afterwards and jazz it up a bit, rework the order of things, or rewrite sections. A big part of the battle is giving yourself something to work with, and that means getting stuff down on paper, no matter what state it’s in.

But what use is thinking over a problem without coming up with some actions to avoid/fix it? With that in mind I want to start a list of things we can do to relieve the boredom of a project and add a little pick-me up to the writing. And I’d like you to help. I’ll start us off, and I’d like you to add your own ideas in the comments. I’ll add any suggestions to the list.

Here’s the list so far:

• Throw in an unpredictable character
• Add an extra event that disrupts your main character
• Find out something new about an existing character
• Change the gender of a character (suggestion from Craig)
• Combine two characters (suggestion from Craig)

So in summary, I’m going to see if I can write through this rut. First I will do some freewriting around the characters and their background. I might never use this, but it will help me to know them a little more, and it’s got me out of ruts before. I’ll then continue the piece with these things in mind and if it’s boring me, try not to worry. The first draft, after all, is not the place to analyse what you’re doing. That can be saved for editing.

Another example – I remember thinking, why would I ever write something freehand again, when electronic typing is so convenient? But it certainty has its uses.

Back when I were a gnipper

I remember I used to like writing everything freehand on a first draft. The moment I changed my mind was when I had to copy up an overdue essay for school. Time was precious, and typing the whole thing up was a real chore.

I vowed never to do it again.

Since then writing electronically has become more and more useful. All my drafts are done on a word processor (I actually use Writeroom so even the distracting clutter of word processor writing is gone); my blog posts are written on my iPod Touch, and some of my notes are too.

Yes the convenience of writing something and being able to change it and move bits around is invaluable, and now it can go everywhere with you. I can’t imagine writing out a full draft and then having to copy it all out again. I find it hard enough to get things done as it is!

But you’ll notice I said (wrote, whatever), “some notes” earlier and not “all notes”. Yes, there are still some things that just don’t feel natural to type.

The freehand list

Freehand is still good for satisfying red pen action!

1. Editing. This is a numbered list because editing is the number one king of freehand uses. I have edited straight into my electronic draft, and I can do it. But I just love scribbling all over a piece of work, crossing great chunks out of it, writing notes in the margins. It’s just so satisfying, and it goes quicker too. Sure I have to copy up those changes again and that’s a drag, but it’s worth it.

2. Notes as you type. Some people use freehand for all their notes. For me it depends on the writing I’m doing. If I’m making notes to get me out of a hole, I like to write in full paragraphs, and I’m aware that I might use some of it later. That’s for the word processor.

   But I always have a notepad next to me when I write in case I need it. It might be a note on an idea I’ve had for later in the story; something I need to research; an idea for another story altogether. I don’t want to change what’s on my screen though. I don’t want to start a new document or swap out to another one. It feels distracting. Jotting down a freehand note with one hand somehow doesn’t.

3. Journalling.This is a slightly odd one, because it’s hard to put my finger on why I do this and don’t type them. I have a journal that is strictly for new story ideas. One idea per tiny page. I love journals, but I actually had to have a long think about what I would use one for!

   Writing these ideas down freehand in the journal makes them feel special, and the space restriction is useful too (there is literally no space restriction in electronic work of course). I’m also worried about losing them amongst a virtual pile of folders. Most of all though, our ideas are personal, and freehand is personal. It feels good to keep these initial flashes in as raw a form as possible.

4. Planning and mindmapping. I actually don’t use freehand for this, but it gets an honourable mention because I know many people do. For mindmapping I use Freemind, because I like to put useful links and images in my maps. Bt there’s no denying the freedom of scrawling on a blank page, and the least resistance we can put between our brain and the outside the better. It can also be useful to shuffle things around quickly and easily to see how they look, and there’s no better toolset than a pen and some post-its for that.

So there you go. Freehand is not dead, and never will be, so I’ll hear none of this freehand goo-goo or ga-ga. What I will hear more of however is your own uses for freehand, so hit the comments with your ideas!

I’ve recently been reading The Angel’s Game by Carlos Ruiz Zafon. The main character in this is a writer and he notes that the first thing any writer learns is the art of procrastination. Both Matt and myself have talked about this before, but it is true, is it not? There is always something else to do. Something that takes priority over sitting down and torturously laying your soul out on paper.

But procrastination is The Enemy. Probably the most insidious enemy because it pretends to be your friend. Like Lucifer whispering in your ear saying, “It’s ok to put your writing off, and do something else. We all know writing does itself anyway…”

Or something.

It isn’t true though is it? Not by a long shot.

Climbing back on the Horse

Perhaps the worst thing is that the longer you put it off, the bigger that horse seems to get. Right now, I’m not looking at a horse, I’m looking at a behemoth. No way I can climb back on that, so why should I try? Well this is a pathetic excuse, and I feel pathetic for thinking it. But what are the options available? Well let’s make a list shall we, because we do so like lists!

It's a horse. That you have to get back up on. Sorry, it's the best I could come up with. Image courtesy of Marilyn Peddle.

1. Baby steps. No brainer? Not really. Its all well and good saying, “ok, I’ll set a little bit of time aside each day/week to get a little writing done, and then build up from there”, but does this work in practice? I’m sure for some people it does. It’s like that gym metaphor. You can’t just do a marathon from scratch, you have to train yourself up. I’ve always thought that doing some writing is better than doing no writing at all. This can backfire though, right? You might do a little writing, then look at it and find it so terrible that it puts you off writing even more. Very counter productive.
2. Walking before you can Crawl. Yeah, because when you look at the vast expanse of a whole book stretching out before you, the enormity of the task can put you off. Easing yourself back into it with some shorter fiction is better right? Even if it’s unrelated and you don’t really plan on doing anything with it (Matt did a post on this a few weeks back) its still getting those rusty writing muscles back into play, right? Personally, my writing falls into a few huge ‘super projects’ and writing away from these feels… counter intuitive. Time spent writing something else feels… wasteful.
3. Sprint. One of my problems is I think too much about stuff. Matt wrote about when to show your work, and about not showing first drafts. I guess one of the reasons I’m more comfortable showing my ‘first draft’ is because really, it isn’t. I do my first few drafts in my head. Very very dangerous. When you draft in your head, when it comes time to set it down on paper its like… It feels like copying something out, kinda dull and tedious. So just write! Just write for an allotted period of time. Non-stop. Just push through it, and see what comes out.

Well, it’s a start. Does anyone have any other options to add to this? Any advice to help get me back on the horse? We shall see how things go and I shall update on the writing situation at… some indeterminate point in the future…

Ah, Monkey Island. You make me lol.

The problem

The problem (if indeed there can be said to be a problem at all), is that while I’ve been getting engrossed in finding tools, finding people, and reading relevant material on the subject (including a few stories of course), I’ve not been doing much of my own writing. Now that I’ve returned to it, a feel like I’ve lost my rhythm a bit, and have to get back into the old routine. It’s a similar situation to when I last stopped writing altogether for a week or two.

The question must be asked then, is this recent foray into a hitherto unexplored (by me) area of writing merely a distraction?

It is true that I would dearly love to write several pieces of interactive fiction. I have mentioned how it combines two of my great loves – writing and games, and has aspects of another discipline that I enjoy – programming. Having said that, I don’t have a good idea for an interactive piece right now, and wouldn’t want to write one until I thought of something appropriate. This may not come along for a while, and in the mean time I have plenty of other dusty projects taking up headspace that I can be getting on with.

The bigger problem

And this question of what I should be spending my time on, of where my focus should be, extends beyond a dip into another form of writing.

I’m sitting here on the train writing a blog post. While I’m doing that, I’m not finishing that science fiction short story that seems to take an inordinate amount of time to write. There are very good reasons for writing a blog – getting a message out there, getting known, and in my case, getting me to write at all. I started the blog as a commitment to regular writing, at a time when I was not writing at all. That was then. Now I do write regularly, even if it’s not as much as I should. So what should I be spending my time on now?

When I started this new period of dedication to writing, I mentioned it to my friends on Facebook. An old friend of mine told me she was in contact with a writer, and she offered to ask him to send me some advice. I agreed enthusiastically and I was indeed presented with a short list of tips. First among them was the declaration that blogging was a complete waste of time. He insisted that it was difficult enough squeezing out your daily word-count, without having to waste so many words on something that did not contribute to your current project.

Needless to say, I was rather downhearted by this, given that I had just made the decision to start Getmewriting. I concluded that, although not bad advice, everyone was different, and needed different things to motivate them. Having a regular time to update the blog, and (hopefully) having an audience waiting for the next post, would give me a reason outside of my own head to stick to a schedule.

Don’t panic!

And it worked. Now I feel I owe it to my blog to keep going. There are also the other reasons, like creating a platform, that still stand. But more than that, I’ve made a commitment. Breaking my commitment to the blog would feel a lot like breaking my commitment to writing. It’s a personal thing. So the blog is staying.

Foot stamping

As for the other stuff – was my “distraction” into interactive fiction a worthy contribution to my writing, if all it did was give me some blog posts? Honestly, probably not. But I’m genuinely interested in it and I really do hope to write some when an appropriate idea comes along. And I will likely continue to read it (my research has left me with a long reading list). So maybe it was a bit of an indulgence, but so what?

It is true that I have many many interests, and there will never be enough time to examine them all. That in itself seems terribly unfair, and is a real frustration of mine. I love finding out new things, and would love to try and to learn many many new things. But there is time, and other life pressures, and time. Time! Grrr!

Living with it

But I can imagine a life where I never got distracted and never indulged in a sideways interest form time to time, and I really don’t think I’d have fun. Besides, such forays into the unknown keep the brain active and stimulated, and so I feel a certain amount of this should be encouraged. I add the caveat that you should be disciplined enough to put a time limit on it though. Try something out for a couple of weeks, say (obviously it depends on the thing), and then drop it. Or at least decide whether you can fit it in, whether it should replace something else, whether to shelve it, whether to abandon it and put it down to experience.

And that, I think, is the answer. Yes, it’s okay to get distracted. But be aware of it, put a limit on it, and in the end, make a decision on it.

Peace, out.

Automatic Writing

I must confess, I don’t always (read rarely), stick to my writing routine, but when I do I feel energised, and ready to write! Once I have had a good run of writing days, the next time I sit down to write is so much easier. At the best moments, it is near to automatic. Apparently, a similar effect may be possible through object-based habits.

Jack Cheng recently wrote an article about activity/object association. In it he describes a phenomenon that he calls “habit fields”. These fields are created by constantly reinforced association between an object, and an activity. You can shape the nature of the field, and in return, it can affect your actions.

Memorable Benefits

Neuron image courtesy of Patrick Hoesly

Now, when people start invoking energy fields and the like, a concept starts sounding a little “woo”. But don’t worry, it’s just a metaphor! What he’s actually talking about is the way memories are constructed. Specifically, there are two features of memory creation that are particularly important here: repetition and association.

It’s obvious to anyone who’s learnt a script that repetition is a vital tool to lock down a memory. Behaviour can also be learned through repetition. Video games are especially good at teaching actions, for example. Combo attacks in games require a complicated series of button presses that bewilder at first. But, through repetition, a player soon learns to react to different situations with a variety of combination moves, without thinking about it at all. This is an example of “muscle memory”. Now extend this to less specific behaviours – to a state of mind; relaxed behaviour, productive behaviour, writing behaviour; all can be learned.

Association is even more fundamental. Memories are essentially a series of associations. These can also be learned, of course. You have probably had the experience of a particular smell reminding you of a person or place, even if you have not seen that person or been to that place in years.

Making the connection

Cheng’s idea is that “habit fields” (states of mind or behaviour) can be built around objects through repetition. Stay consistent with the objects you use for certain tasks and the association takes care of itself. Just like the gamer whose fingers perform instinctive button ballets when he sits in front of his console, you can slip into focussed productivity when you settle down in your designated work place to use your designated work tools.

In practice, this process is going on all the time, for better or worse, so you are using it anyway. Being aware of it will help you avoid the obvious pitfalls, and develop good habits. Don’t check Twitter on your writing laptop, or it will gradually become your Twitter laptop!

Think about it for a bit, and you’ll probably see areas in your own life where this already applies. For example, I used to try writing at weekends at my big desktop computer. I was often distracted, and found myself much more comfortable at the dining room table, using the laptop I also use for work.

Given a quick think, this is not surprising. I bought that desktop primarily for gaming, and that’s what I had been using it for previously. The laptop on the other hand is what I use all day for work, and because it’s convenient, I use it to write on the train. The habit field of my laptop then, us one of productive work, including writing. Well, mostly.

Jack of all Trades…

It’s a problem, as Cheng points out, that becomes more pervasive the more capable our tools become. These days every electronic device is a Swiss army knife of possibilities, and the problem becomes one of narrowing those down or restricting those options in order to focus.

Having a dedicated area to write, and restricting your writing to to just that purpose, could take you a long way. Read Cheng’s full article for some other ideas on how to do that, and pop back to getmewriting.com next week, when I’ll have a list of tools to help you focus on your writing. In the mean time, I’d like to know if you have noticed habit fields around the the objects you use.

It's a hot seat. See what I did there? Courtesy of Dav

Why do I need a character backstory?

Let’s just go over, briefly, why that is so. Now it used to be that an author could spend pages describing a character and their history (or anything else for that matter. I remember reading a paragraph that lasted one whole page and was packed with dense description of a kitchen, or something. Not sure of the novel. Might have been Tess of the D’Urbervilles).

Not so these days. It’s the whole, “show, don’t tell” thing again. It’s considered much more effective to give an impression of the character through their actions and the way they perform them. Hints and clues. Less is more. This is a good thing as far as I’m concerned. Feel free to disagree of course, many do.

So it might be that a lot of the backstory of your character does not get put into words in your finished novel. Why should you bother developing one, then? I refer you to paragraph one. Writers often need something solid in their heads, or preferably written down, to get a real sense of the character’s motivations, and to know what they will do next. Armed with such priveledged knowledge, characters begin that process of “writing themselves” that we’ve all heard so much about.

So what’s this hotseat thing, then?

A few weeks back, I read a blog post that dealt with this issue. The author recommended a method I had used before, but not applied to writing.

As I commented at the time, this reminded me of drama lessons. The idea is based around interviewing a character. In the drama excercise, the actor sits in a chair in front of his or her peers. The actor is in character, having read the script and so armed with that knowledge.

They are then asked questions by the other people in the class and must improvise their character’s response. The idea is to fill in the gaps left by the script and gain greater insight into the character’s past and motivations, all of which can be brought to bear in performance.

In the writing exercise of course, you are both actor and questioner. It is your job to ask questions of your character, and also your job to respond as your character, by putting pen to paper. Again, you are improvising, or freewriting, and again, such freedom will give rise to unexpected events and reactions from your character. They will help make your character whole, and may even provide some future plot points for your story proper.

Some tips

Don’t be coy when asking questions. You want to ask those questions to which you don’t yet know the answer, otherwise, what’s the point? And to help keep the flow, why not write out the questions beforehand, so you don’t keep having to pause to think of a new one halfway through the process. If you think of new questions during the improvisation, well just ask them then and there, and answer them then and there. Just as long as you’re not interrupting yourself.

When the time comes to do the answering, take a moment to get yourself into character. Imagine a scene with them in it, and imagine how they behave from what you know of them so far. Then go for it! Make your character honest for this round of questions, even if they are not normally. You’ll get more out of it I’m sure.

Anyway, that gives you an idea of how it worked for me during drama classes, and what helped then. At the moment I’m concentrating on a short story, but I’ll run through this exercise myself as soon as I’m done. I’ll let you know how I got on, and I’d like you to do the same!

If you missed my previous post on organising my reading, I suggest you take a peek first, otherwise you may get confused.

All done? Great. Well, in short, it’s a little better. I actually managed to get my must read articles to zero this week. That is something of a breakthrough, and proof enough that separating out your most valued feeds is a great idea. And this folder has been refined since the initial batch o’ blogs was entered, which helps. One or two have been ruthlessly cut from the list, either to go into the “posts often” or “not that bothered” folders. This kind of refining will constantly improve the process.

There are two problems I am having at the moment. One is that pesky “posts often” folder. It’s massive. Over 1000 posts. Still, at least those posts are not getting in the way of my must reads. Just to reduce the numbers, and make sure I don’t miss out on some other favourites, I may separate the folder out into two tiers depending on which heavy posters I like most. But I’m not sure.

The other problem is the batch of ungrouped feeds sitting around gathering dust. I see a blog, like the look of it, and subscribe straight away, vowing to read it properly later and then decide where it goes. But now there are sixteen feeds that remain unread, and I have some catching up to do.

The solution here will be to put new feeds straight into “must read”. It sounds like a terrible abuse of the system, I know, but I figure it’s the only way of ensuring I will definitely read the posts. If I then decide they’re not that important after all, I’ll move them then.

So far, so good.

For me, it depends what mood I’m in, and what I’m doing. Sometimes listening to music is inspiring, and puts me in a more creative mood. But I have to align my mood with the right kind of music for that to work, and it rarely happens except by accident. I think one of the small joys in life is when pressing shuffle on your iPod magically produces a string of songs that fit your mood. But I’m normally walking when that happens.

Other times, music has to be wordless, as I can often be distracted by good lyrics (it doesn’t help that my music collection is excellent by the way). Or, at the very least, the words must be so unimportant as to be rendered meaningless, and part of the background. I don’t mean that in a derogatory way (I just said my music collection is excellent). It’s perfectly valid for some dance tracks to simply give a nod to the written word without giving it particular importance. Prodigy is a favourite.

Soundtracks are also good. Currently top of the list are The Dark Knight (contender for most loved film), and, given my recent obsession with Playstation (can’t. Stop. Buying. Games!) the Assassin’s Creed II soundtrack is also a winner.

And what does Stephen King listen to?

I work to loud music – hard-rock stuff like AC/DC, Guns ‘n Roses, and Metallica have always been particular favorites

Stephen King, On Writing

Now you know.

It’s different for everyone of course, and I’d like to know what you listen to when writing. Or is silence the preferred background? Hit the comments, folks!