It seems not.

Well, in the style of all epilogues, I am going to revisit elements of my previous posts.  Primarily, editing.  Yeah, like I haven’t done that before. 

Sometimes you just have to throw things out. Image courtesy of dolmansaxlil.

I only mention it because I have been in the process of receiving editorial notes.  This in the midst of my rather long “rest” from the whole writing thing since finishing the initial draft of the series.  And while I have been “resting”, and have gotten entirely out of the necessary headspace needed to work on this project, I get notes that equate to “there isn’t enough drama.  Change it.”

OK, so it wasn’t quite that bad, but in the midst of making changes based on these notes, this is what it turned into.  Namely around episodes four and five.  Now, all the way back when I was working on these episodes, regular readers may remember that these were the ones I had issues with the first time round, because I found them inert.  Granted, at the time, I found the source of the drama, but it turns out it wasn’t enough.  So I had to figure out some other way of raising the stakes.  Only doing it in such a way that wouldn’t mean a re-write of the entire series.

Laziness begets Creativity

That’s right, I said it.  I’m not sure how many writers out there feel the same as I do about this matter, but once I’ve got an idea set in my head about the direction a piece of writing is going, I find it very difficult to get myself off that track.  I have many projects that I have written that I’ve mangled in editing just to keep the same incidents on track because I’m so used to thinking of the narrative in that way.  And in a sense, that’s what I had here.  I had the specific incidents set out, and I couldn’t honestly see how I could rewrite it without messing everything else up.  I needed inspiration!

Unfortunately, there was none to be found.  The idea I had for the episode was so thin as it was that I had literally no other material.  I know as a writer this is bad.  Sometimes (especially if you write longer fiction) there are some sections that just don’t speak to you.  They need to happen, but beyond that there is nothing else.  I guess it ties into having everything mapped out, with character back-stories and so fourth, as Matt mentioned a few posts back.

So how do I excite this thing up without throwing it all out?  Sometimes, sadly, that is the case.  You have to throw it out and start from scratch.  I however was opposed to doing that here.  Maybe because I’m lazy, maybe because I had nothing else here, and maybe because I was going blank.  But as I was re-reading, in the vain hope of something leaping out at me, I discovered it.

The Ace in the Hole

Yeah, I have no idea where this term sprung from either.  It makes no sense, but I found mine.  I don’t know, deep down, maybe we all have this, for just such an emergency.  These episodes were about one character, and I’ll be honest, there wasn’t really enough material to support the character for two episodes.  There was however, another character.

On my initial run, writing it first time around, I didn’t pay it much mind.  But it fell into the category of back story for characters, and what happens off screen so to speak.  Obviously, you can’t follow all of the characters all of the time, you jump from scene to scene, but I’ll bet that there are some characters who you’ll map out plot threads for when they’re not the focus of attention.

I used to do this all the time.  I was obsessed with it.  How did this character get here?  What were they doing in the meantime?  If you generate the material (enough rough thumbnails of what they’ve been doing) for characters, then it can give them added weight.  It can give them momentum that drives the story on when it starts flagging.  Obviously it can get boring if you stick with one character all the time, no matter what they’re doing, and sometimes you just need that break.

Let them rest, for Heaven’s Sake!

So that’s what I did here.  There were a lot of things going on ‘off camera’ during these episodes, and I’ll be honest, it was all a lot more interesting than what was going on with the main character (he has a long talk, then he gets laid).  So I just gave him a rest from the attention, moved the camera over here and hey!  I found what was missing.  Of course, it required me to generate new material off the cuff (which I found surprisingly difficult) but that’s another story.

So in summation?  I guess my point is that, for those of you who write longer fiction (especially first person or third person subjective) and you find yourself flagging at some point, then change the focus.  It can be as simple as moving over to a different character for a scene, or a chapter, but it can open up new possibilities which may surprise even yourself.

In truth, no.  I am merely in a place where I feel “Meh, is that it?  So what now?”

I shall be honest.  I have never completed a project before.  Sure, I’ve finished that novel (despite doing endless redrafts) but it’s still sitting in my hard drive, as opposed to sitting on the shelf of the local bookstore.  I’ve finished several screenplays, but again, they live in my hard drive next to my novel, as opposed to being on several screens at the local multiplex. 

This is the first project I’ve finished which is actually going to be in the public domain (Albeit after that final do over to incorporate editors notes.) 

But that isn’t why I don’t feel the achievement.  And I’ve been finding it hard to place why.  Is it just the typical artist thing of never being happy, or satisfied?  Is it because I’ve been working on this for so long, and more importantly, so intensively that to get to the finish line (or damn near) that it seems like an anti climax?  I promise this will be the last time I drag out this whole writing/marathon metaphor. 

It’s All about the Race, Not the Finish Line

This is the only way I can summarise this feeling.  Of course, now that I’ve finished it, part of me wants to take a break, while another part of me wants to move on to the next project. 

But none of this is useful advice.  I shall move on to that now.  So for this final post I want to write about that evil thing- 

Research

I never had a problem with doing this for academic essays.  Mainly because it was a requirement to do so, and I wouldn’t have known what I was talking about otherwise.  Research for fiction on the other hand, I’ve always been a little more lax with.  Mainly I always figured it was about making stuff up.  Which is hypocritical I know, because I personally hate it when books I read (or more particularly) TV shows I watch get basic principles entirely wrong.  Watch pretty much any episode of the X-Files to see what I’m going on about. 

Well, the final episode of my series is set in a place I haven’t been to in a few years, and have sketchy recollections of.  This is one of the reasons why I had to entirely re-write the last episode, because the geography that I remember and the actually geography didn’t match at all.  So I decided to do a little (lazy online) research. 

And it’s a good job I did. 

Because I discovered that the main location of my final episode hasn’t actually existed for almost three years!  Which is especially bad since the episode in question is set three years ahead of us!  When I found this out, my heart sank.  Did this mean I’ve have to entirely rewrite the whole episode over again? 

Thankfully, no! 

A little further research led to some significant relocation, just to clarify the geography, which in turn led to further edits of several of my other episodes. But in a way it helped to ground the episode more, and certainly in my mind at least, made it feel more solid and real, as opposed to taking place in this ephemeral head space that it had taken place in before. 

So yes, never underestimate the value of research, even just a bit of quickie research like I did.  Even if you’re writing something about spaceships with hyper-drives fighting ice breathing dragons in space, it still might pay to look up some basic physics, just to cover your bases. 

I’m still not entirely sure when the first episodes are going to be posted, but in the meantime, still do check out the site at www.owango.com 

Now, in traditional writer’s style, I think its time for copious amounts of alcohol.

This does have a silver lining though, because it means I have something to write about in this post! 

The problem I had was with the final episode.  Obviously I had a certain idea about how it was meant to turn out.  I had several scenes that needed to be in there, and overall, I had worked out a fairly clever way to tie it right back to the start of the series.  So what went wrong? 

It just.  Didn’t.  Work. 

I’m sure we’ve all reached that point where we’ve been writing something, and it just.  Doesn’t.  Work. 

How do you deal with it?  Well, the first step obviously is to try and rework it.  Do another edit, another draft, move things about, flip something on its head, that sort of thing.  Sometimes though, it cant be salvaged. 

Leave it Alone

Best course of action in these circumstances is to leave it alone for a while.  Let it rest, and ruminate on it.  You may find some inspiration somewhere down the line.  Or it might simply be a case of building up the courage to erase it and start from scratch.  Of course, all of this is moot if, like me, you have deadlines to work to.  How do you go through this process of leaving it alone when you only have hours, or perhaps a few days, in which to do so, instead of weeks?  Well obviously, you have to think on your feet. 

However, I haven’t been doing very well at that this week either.  For so long I’ve had this idea about how this final episode should end, and I finally get here and I find out it just.  Doesn’t.  Work. 

Changing the Ending

So this is what I have to do.  Change the ending.  But somehow change it and still incorporate the aforementioned scenes.  And tie it all together.  And make sure it’s still satisfying.  So not only do I have time constraints, I also have story constraints.  Under these circumstances, the only advice I could think of was to cut away everything that wasn’t essential.  This was a little painful, since I had done many redrafts of this.  Reworked it many times.  To cut it all away and be left with only a few chunks of writerly flesh… 

How to build these into a fully fleshed out episode though?  Well, the main issue I had was that the initial idea didn’t make a whole hell of a lot of sense in context.  This can happen sometimes.  When you plan too much, in the actual writing, the plan can change, and when you end up where you want to be, it turns out it isn’t where you ended up. If you see what I mean.

A New Direction

So I made the bold move of shaking it all up.  Hell, even introduced a few new characters, and changed the entire storyline.  The main problem I had was that there wasn’t any threat, no drama.  No point now for the characters to do what they were doing  (OK, there was, but it was way too weak).  So I needed a new threat, a more direct one.  Put one of the characters in danger.  Flip something on its head.  And in that simple thought, inspiration hit.  What I had originally planned was to have the heroes catch one of the bad guys, but now I’ve turned it around, and I have the drama of the episode. 

So it doesn’t actually take that much.  Only a complete reversal of direction.  It can be a handy tool.  Even if it doesn’t come to fruition, it can lead you back out of the cul-de-sac of it just.  Doesn’t.  Work.  Back into the inspiration pool. 

Or something.

Or can I?

There is a certain respect in which a writing project is never truly finished.  Barring getting published, which is a definite end, though part of me suspects that even if that were the case with me, I’d still do another redraft.  Because there is always room for improvement, isn’t there?  I’m not quite at that stage yet, where I can let a project go and see how it functions in the world, but I can feel myself getting close. 

It may be a little pre-emptive, but I thought I’d explore it in this entry. 

Finishing the Marathon

Aside from being a relief, it’s also a little exciting.  Knowing that a project is going to be finished, and that it’s going to be in the public domain, and the sense of achievement that comes along with that -  It’s a thrill!  It is however, just the first marathon of many.  Anyone who is serious about getting published needs to have an ongoing plan.  To thrash the writing/exercise metaphor again, you’ve completed your first marathon, but there are still so many to get through.  You can’t completely stop working out in between.

You still need more ideas, other stories to build, blank slates to fill.  Most probably, you may have to develop more ideas with the characters you’ve created, write a follow up book or series. After all, if your readers are familiar with the characters you’ve already created, they wont need to invest as much effort getting to know a huge new bunch of characters.  This works both ways, too.  If you, as a writer, have invested so much time in creating these characters and the world they live in, then you may feel reluctant to abandon them to it after just one project. 

Just Plain Lazy?

When I first started writing seriously, I was opposed to the idea of writing sequels for the sake of it.  I’ll be honest, I was naïve enough to think that it was lazy.  An easy get out.  This was of course before I pumped so much of my time, effort and energy into writing a full novel.  Once I’d written it, and done endless redrafts, my thinking was radically altered.  I kind of understood that it wasn’t laziness at all.  When you create a group of characters, and see how well they work, then you come to understand that they have far more potential than one book or series or whatever can give them. 

I know this isn’t always the case.  Some characters work really well for just one book, and that’s fine, but sometimes they can surprise you, and give you a lot more longevity.  This is what I discovered from the book I wrote.  The characters had other stories to tell.  It’s also the case of this series that I’ve written.  While it has at times been trying, and the thought of writing a second series fills me with a cold dread, there is a longer story here.  I know (roughly) how it ends, and depending on how well I can generate further ideas, there is a second, possibly even a third series in it.  But how do you prepare yourself for this?  Personally, I’m going to take a break.  Not from writing altogether, just from this project.  It’s been tough, because it’s kinda heavy, complex, and has a lot of science behind it.  My next project is going to be light, easy going, not as rigid and serious. 

Hopefully, my next entry will be the one where I can claim to have finished (aside from the final edit), and I’ll be able to give a better account of how it feels, to me.

 If you’re writing a TV series, then obviously the scripts have to be a certain length (As everyone knows, the general rule is one page of script = one minute of screen time).  While word count isn’t necessarily as important here, page count is.  A half hour sitcom should be about 35-40 pages (because some scenes are inevitably cut) while hour long drama’s should be 65-70 pages. 

If you’re writing your first novel, then word count should be approximately between 60-90,000 words, and definitely no more than that.  Why do I bring this entire subject up?  Because it is all about control. 

Words, words, words.

I somehow write an incredible number of words in a fairly small space.  One of my peers even dubbed me ‘The Word Machine’ because of this.  And it’s true.  It isn’t deliberate, it’s not like I try my best to squeeze as many words into every page as I can, I guess it’s just the way I write.  But it hasn’t been helpful, especially in the writing of this series.  For each episode I have a maximum word count, and it is often at the forefront of my mind just how many words I have left.  I know how much of each episode I have left to write, and I also know how many words I have remaining to write it in. 

I know it can be a drag to have to think about technical things such as word count while in the raw ‘generating material’ part of your writing.  After all, isn’t that what editing is for?  But it’s all part of your ongoing writer training.  If you can develop the ability to write judiciously, to not be so wordy in the writing phase, then you won’t have to rip so much out during the editing phase.  This is something I never really learned when I first started writing, which often made editing a painful process for me.  It’s much easier to scrap a character during the writing, than coming back later, that character firmly entrenched in your mind, and then having to remove that character altogether.

Not just fiction.

I also had this issue while I was at University, writing essays.  Obviously essays are an entirely different beast, what with them not being fiction, and needing facts and quotes and references and so forth. But while – I imagine – a lot of people would do their best to pad essays out, include long quotes, and lots of them, I always found myself pushing the maximum leeway we had in terms of word counts.  It’s like I always wanted to get as much into each essay as I could, to clarify my points, maybe even to show off how much work I’d done on the topic.  Essay writing is probably a very good exercise actually.  Essays involve doing research, backing up your claims, showing evidence.  In a roundabout way, writing fiction is much the same.

Active Thinking

I’ve been having problems with word count because like I say, I have a word count limit, and a lot to get into every episode.  So it generates an active thinking process.  A few of the episodes I’ve written this week I have actually found myself changing during the writing, mid scene in some cases.  Why do I need two characters here, when one can do the job just as well?  Yes, it does mean having to go back and edit the first half of the scene, but better to just edit the first half of the scene than the whole scene, right? 

This has been coming to me more and more.  Soon, hopefully, I’ll be able to do this kind of thinking before commencing a piece, so I’ll be able to streamline it as I go.  It allows for a little improvisation during the process while it’s actually occurring.  Comedians who work exclusively in improv don’t just make it all up as they go along, they work within set guidelines.  Some people may find that surprising.  If you have those guidelines in place however, it makes the whole process easier, not more limiting, but more free.  I believe the same is true for writing.  Once you train yourself to work within these guidelines, it becomes easier and more free, instead of limiting.  You will begin to think of such things as word counts unconsciously, and your writing will become better for it. 

The word count for this post, by the way (not including this sentence) is 809.  With editing I could probably get it down to 750.  What would you edit out?

Which – in a roundabout way – got me thinking about endurance.

There have been previous posts on this site, from both Matt and myself, about this very topic. Comparisons can of course be made between writing and physical exercise, short stories being a lot like sprints, while novels can be full on marathons.  What I’d like to explore this week is what happens when you get worn out.

No Breaks Allowed

There will come a time during the writing process when you just get tired of it.  I’m not talking about getting the dreaded block, or being reluctant to find the time for it, but when you’re in the midst of writing and just think, “I’ve had enough of this.  I’m bored.  I can’t be bothered anymore”.  I suppose the suitable analogy would be hitting the wall (or the dip? – Matt).

I got to this point this week.  I just didn’t have the energy to push through.  I’ll be honest, I’ve had moments like this before.  Earlier this year, when I started work on a new novel, I wondered just how the hell I managed to get one full book written, since it seemed so improbable that I could ever do it again. 

And this is how I began to feel this week. 

Though I have managed to make it so far through this project (past the halfway mark) I began to feel it fall apart in my brain.  However, I do have those deadlines (albeit mostly self imposed).  So how do you deal with this?

 Well, as I mentioned, I haven’t been entirely inactive.  I have written different scenes from different episodes.  I have found myself writing a few scenes at a time from different episodes each day. Matt did write a post about this a while back.  I have found this a little different and somewhat energising too.  Because of the nature of my project, a lot of the episodes are inter-connected, so one little change here, can result in many changes elsewhere (see chaos theory for more details). 

Joining the Dots

Many of you I’m sure – if you’re anything like me – will plan out bits and pieces here and there.  You’ll think about scenes, dialogue choices and so fourth while you’re not actively writing.  Going through scenes in my head allows me to come up with some different, unique choices, directions I’d never thought about, which could open up different avenues to explore.  Getting the major scenes plotted out, settled in your mind and written down can be a great exercise.  Leaving out the gaps in between (for the moment) can make you feel like you’re making terrific progress, which is always a confidence boost.  Eventually though, you do have to join all these dots up.  I have, in the past, dreaded these bits.  The “mundane” sections, or “the boring bits”.  If they really are that boring however, then they shouldn’t be in the book, should they?  Look upon this as an opportunity to have fun.  Joining the dots shouldn’t be tedious.  Mess around with it.  It doesn’t have to be serious. 

For one of my episodes I’ve had a few problems with how to get characters from A to B to C.  I’ve had the scenes planned out, but getting there was tough.  So I just messed around with it.  Had some fun, played out different variations in my head, and what do you know, I managed to hit the right track, not only in an interesting and fun way, but in a logical one too.  Well, as logical as you can get when dealing with Time Travelling Assassins.

Have Fun!

This is an absolute must.  Writing should be fun, right?  That’s why we writers spend so much time doing it (other than to hopefully make a living from it).  I’m not saying it always is.  Sometimes it is a slog, especially when you have deadlines and you can’t be bothered and you have to join those dots, but just cut loose with it.  Even if what you write isn’t going to entirely fit in the final draft, as long as you’re writing then you have nothing to worry about.  I personally have found in the past that working on multiple projects has helped me.  Sometimes I may get tired of what I’m working on, I might not be in the mindset, but I may be in the mindset for something else, so I’ll move on to writing that for a month or so. 

If you only have the one project though, it can be a little more difficult.  So just throw in some craziness.  Do a bit of writing that doesn’t progress it.  It may not fit into the framework of the book, but it does keep you writing.  It can be a good recharge for your writing batteries, like a small vacation, but one that keeps your writing muscles toned. 

And who knows, it can even occasionally spark that ingenious inspiration you’re looking for.

Yes, the contract.  That moment that all of us, as writers, dream of, where our work gets picked up and takes that first step down the long road to actually being published.  Now, while I don’t have expert knowledge of the ins and outs of the whole publishing industry, I can however offer my views on that niche of it that I am currently entering.

Online publishing.

The Licensing Agreement

When I received the licensing agreement this week, it was exciting and terrifying in equal measure.  Here it was.  This makes it all feel much more official.  I am actually (hopefully) going to get my work published, in the public domain!  That’s the exciting part.  The terrifying part is actually reading the damn thing.

Yes aspiring writers, there will come a point (hopefully) when we all have to be prepared to give up a piece of work.  By that I don’t mean throw it in the trash!  Because of the way that this project works (i.e., serialised fiction) I believe (from what I have gleaned in what could laughingly be referred to as the “research” I’ve done in this area) that the agreement that I have is much like the agreement that a creator of a TV show must deal with.  Yes, you have your series picked up, but there are always conditions. 

Obviously, retention of intellectual rights to the property remain yours.  You created it after all.  But there is a point when you have to surrender some rights.  I know it’s your baby, and you’ve nurtured it, weaned, it, given it life, but then when you have to hand it over, it can be tough.  You have to sacrifice some responsibility.  This is what I feared amongst all the legalese.  But hey, dude’s gotta eat right?

Giving Up the Baby

So, how exactly do you give it up?  And what exactly does this mean?  Primarily for me (and I believe this stands for everything) the company retains exclusive rights to distribute any material for a standard period of seven years.  This means no sneaking off and getting it (or any related work), published on the side through somewhere else.  So ownership of the actual intellectual property remains with the author. Distribution rights lie with the company. This is all good, right?

Well, if you are writing a TV show, and it is picked up, yes, this is good.  Unless your show (which you’ve had a long term plan for) gets cancelled, then you have to wait seven years before you regain control over any kind of distribution rights, and therefore cannot do anything with the material, despite what your loyal fans may want.

In terms of what I’m doing, an online serialised story doesn’t have nearly the same kind of ramifications.  The ramifications that concern me are that the company retains not only exclusive rights to this piece of work, but to all my work.  Obviously this is why you have to read the small print.

While I wouldn’t in theory have an issue with this (I have several projects that could work on the site) my main project, that one that I’ve spent so much time pouring my very soul into (yes, its all very melodramatic) would most definitely NOT work in this format.

I’m not saying this is a bad thing!  Show me a writer who doesn’t want a multi-project deal, and I’ll show you a worthless liar!  Luckily, the project I’m writing does have a lot of follow up potential.  I’m unsure whether I’ve mentioned this before, but the way I’ve structured the project means that I could, essentially, write this thing forever, or until the readers get bored.  However, I do have this fear that by signing this thing, I may have to face the idea of giving up my original baby, which tears at me much more than having to write this online project in the directions my editors wish me to.

In Essence

So how do you proceed?  I’ll attempt to make some points…

1. ALWAYS read the small print carefully.

   This was the part that terrified me.  I know it’s no ones favourite pastime to wade through legalese, but make sure you know exactly what it is that you’re signing.  You don’t want to just skim over it, sign it, then find out three months down the line that you no longer have the rights to your own work.

2. ASK about anything that is unclear, or you’re unsure about.

   This sounds like a no-brainer, and you may be reluctant (as I was) to ask questions for fear of sounding like a moron.  But you want to make sure that when it says “the licensor retains any intellectual rights”, or something to that effect, it means more than you get to claim you created the world of the characters, while all the franchise/action figure/lunchbox tie ins are out of your hands, as are the profits that any of these generate.

3. Make sure you know what you’re getting into.

   It’s no good signing something only to discover that you’re bound to something that you don’t want to be bound to.  If you are signing a multi-book contract, then congratulations! That’s fantastic! However, make sure that you know the terms by which this three book deal is being signed. If you only envisioned your characters in one story, without any continuation, and you discover the three book deal is for three books with the same characters, you’re gonna have a bit of trouble getting the other books done aren’t you?

4. Find out exactly how the royalties work

   Again, I can’t speak for the whole industry, but I imagine this is pretty standard – you will only get paid royalties at a standard value rate.  By this I mean, you wont get a cheque at the end of every month for say, £3.57.  The royalties your work may generate (in my case, how much revenue it generates for the site, but generally the number of book sales) will accrue until they reach a particular value, and THEN you’ll be paid your royalties.  Yes, this may mean you may never see any more money after your initial payment, so be aware.

Since I totally suck at actually getting the writing done (Despite the “official” deadlines I have) I thought I’d write a post about editing. 

Yes, because I’ve never done that before. 

Constructive Feedback

How would you classify this kind of feedback?  Well, anything that helps really.  You may share your work in progress with friends or family, you may be part of a writing group, or if you’re lucky (as I am) you may have a few dedicated writing buddies who exchange work from time to time.  Writing groups though, may be a little hit and miss.  I used to attend a writing group – long disbanded now – where we often exchanged work to receive feedback.  Well I’ll tell you, the few of us who were regular attendee’s had various projects on the go, some had a serious volume of work behind them, others just wrote occasionally for pleasure.  However, I found the group somewhat disappointing and occasionally frustrating.  Why was this?  Primarily it was because the majority of the feedback was – and this wasn’t just to my work here – along the lines of “I really liked it”, or “that was really good.” Which as we all know is not feedback at all.  It doesn’t particularly help you as a writer to know that someone liked your work. 

I further remember at university when we had our feedback sessions each week.  Now I don’t want to appear harsh to anyone, but you could tell who was serious about writing and who was just doing it to pass the unit.  The work that was workshopped just to pass the unit lacked a certain something.  Some of the work was just plain bad.  I’m not saying they were bad writers, only some submissions were.  I would torture myself every Sunday, writing detailed feedback, giving notes – most of it (hopefully) constructive, even on the work that I didn’t like, or the work that was clearly just for the mark.  But I did it because lets face it, if you can’t get good at analysing other people’s work, how are you going to be good at analysing your own? 

But I digress. 

Utilising Feedback

 
The feedback I’m concerning myself with here is in an official capacity.  Anyone who hopes to get published is obviously going to need to have their work read and, well, edited, by an editor.  Now I’ve never had this before.  Obviously I’ve had feedback from friends, and I’ve made alterations based on that (or not, depending), but getting notes and suggestions from an actual editor in an official capacity is a whole different beast. 

It is different because if you totally ignore everything the editor tells you, then they won’t work with you, and you wont get published.  I’ll be honest, this is what terrifies me!  After my first round of notes I got back, I had that voice in the back of my head saying, “change everything she wants you to!  Do whatever she says!  If you don’t she’ll ditch you and your story wont get published!” 

But this is the other end of the extreme.  If you do change everything your editor tells you to, then you’ll more than likely get ditched too.  Nobody wants to work with someone who is a pushover. 

So where is the middle ground?  While I like to think that I give mostly constructive feedback, as far as I recall, I have never (or at least very rarely) replaced the writer’s text.  I may suggest alternatives to certain lines of dialogue and so fourth, but plain rewriting someone’s text is – I find anyway – a little rude.  It may appear that you don’t trust or believe in the writer’s voice, or that you feel you can do a better job.  Now it’s fine to maybe suggest a replacement line of dialogue if it’s a real clanger.  God knows I’ve written some god awful dialogue in my past.  What writer hasn’t?  I keep a hold of that and sometimes, when I’m dissatisfied with a writing session, I just tell myself “Well, at least it wasn’t as bad as…” 

The Middle Ground

 
No, the middle ground is to take on board any notes and suggestions, and change your writing accordingly, your own way, in your own voice.  With each piece of feedback I get, my online editor gives me a list of questions to do with the episodes, which gives me some indications as to what is clear and what isn’t.  This is I find very useful.  Don’t replace text when you give feedback, but ask questions. If you ask questions of the writer, it is the clearest indication of what it is that works and what doesn’t.

My editor also makes alterations (suggests alterations) to the text, and I will mostly (but not always) alter the text, or change a scene, to accommodate.  After all, if you receive feedback on one chapter at a time (or an episode at a time, in my case) there may be material in there that doesn’t make immediate sense, but is clarified in a later episode.

It’s about getting used to not being precious about your work.  But it also opens up new avenues.  I think I mentioned in my last post that this series is big.  And dense.  There is so much stuff in it and I’ll be honest, it isn’t all going to fit in the one series.  Also, some of the characters are superfluous.  In context to how I originally envisioned it, as prose, then yes, you can include the smaller characters, the ones who are in the background most of the time, who don’t have main storylines.  However, scripting is a different beast.  Eight main characters and almost a dozen supporting may work in a book of prose, but in a series?  Can you name a series which has a main cast of almost ten characters and more than that in recurring roles?  Shut up about Lost! So you have to cut some.  And while some of my characters were heavily under-developed anyway, it has been suggested that I lose some characters from various scenes and replace them with others.  And this does cause me a little pain. 

However!  It does also get my creative juices flowing.  It’s part of the thinking on your feet thing.  Making the given suggestions work within the greater context.  And it has actually helped a few more of the pieces fall into place for me.

 Now all I need to do is write them!

So I was thinking about doing this on a week by week basis, giving hints and tips, or just an overview of my experience writing it.  And how is it going?  Well, it has helped a lot with the discipline.  This is the first time I have had to write anything to any kind of deadline (barring essays at university) and within any kind of parameters. 

What I’m writing is episodic serialised fiction.  In essence, it’s like writing a TV series, only in text form, to be published on the net.  The episodes have to be formatted in a particular way, within guidelines that I’ve been sent.  I’ll be honest, that was the most trouble I had with the first episode, getting the formatting of it right.  Once I had that down though, the next was easier, much easier.  But I’m ahead of myself.  The first step was to write an overall plan for the series.  This is something else I have never done before. 

It’s actually been something of an eye opener.  I might as well get it out of the way that el muggins here chose to run with that idea.  That’s right folks, I sent them the idea I was talking about in my previous post, about revisiting old work.  The horrific one which made me want to quit writing because of the terrible terrible lesbian sex scenes.  Always an uphill challenge.  Anyway, the plan was the first thing to sort out.  This idea was big, I mean big.  I could have easily made a career out of writing books set in this mythology.  Then, as the ideas began to overflow, I thought about it in terms of a TV show (five seasons and counting!) But the site provides a happy medium between TV and prose.  It’s episodic and somewhat experimental, so it works well. 

Anyway, enough digressing.  Writing a plan.  For the overall series.  If anyone has ever thought about writing short serialised fiction (For TV, as an example) then the two major points that I would pick out about writing an overall plan are that it is: 

1. Essential and
2. Probably a little pointless

Yes, contradictory advice!  Yes, it is an absolute must to get the overall story arc down.  Solid.  While my initial idea was nebulous, there were key points, key episodes that I wanted to hit along the way.  Certain essential events that occurred.  I suppose anyone who has planned writing (as opposed to just winging it, like I did with my last project (which is on hold while I get this series written)) will know what I’m talking about.  Hit the crisis points, the major events, get the arc plotted, and this really is about as much as you should realistically plan.  In the plan I wrote, I put a great amount of detail into what happens in the first two or three episodes, and then roughly what happens between the other few major events, leading up to the finale. 

Well what did I learn from this exercise?  Mostly I learnt about point 2, above.  My ideas are too big.  It took me two full episodes (stretching my allotted word count to the limits) to write everything that I’d planned for the first episode, plus some extra stuff left over!  What was initially going to be my episode two has been pushed back to episode four, which in turn has been pushed back to episode six, and so on!  So obviously it’s alright to plan, just as long as you don’t plan too much. 

What I also learned, however, is that it is a useful editing exercise too.  Obviously once you’ve written your plan, and started the episodes, you can cut anything superfluous.  Merge a few storylines; get rid of characters and so on.  Working to a deadline is particularly beneficial, because it gets you thinking on your feet.  It helps you to be absolutely ruthless.  No deliberating about whether to keep a character here, keep an event there, if it doesn’t work, cut it out!  You have no choice but to get it done, so if something isn’t working, scrap it without wasting time on it.  It can help build your natural writing instincts.  Honing the skills that help you write better, faster. 

Writing to a deadline can help in other ways.  For instance, I am currently working on the third episode (and fourth, since the structure that has emerged sees the episodes working in pairs).  Now episode three has its own traumas.  Unlike the first two (or rather three in my original plan) episode three I only had a general idea for.  OK, that’s a lie.  I had an intro to the story and that was it.  The rest was just blank.  But obviously I have to get the story finished by the end of the week (While the deadline I’ve been given is twelve weeks – or eight if I want more cash – I’ve set myself the personal goal of two episodes a week, obviously then needing to get notes, feedback and do a redraft for the site).  The problems here were that it wasn’t really one of the high points for me in the story.  The main character is necessary to the overall arc, but I didn’t have the drama, the conflict for him.  But obviously it needs to get done.  So far from avoid writing, I delve into it.  I go over possible ideas in my head, not just for his story, but how to fit it into the overall arc.  This I did whenever I could, while walking into town, while eating, while watching DVDs, while lying in bed stressing about it, and ultimately I got down to writing it. 

And I just wrote. 

Granted, a lot of it is hopeless, rambling repetitive nonsense, but that’s what editing is for right?  It’s about working under pressure.  When you must get something done it can lead to inventiveness and creativity.  This is what I have found in the writing of these episodes.  I found my drama, the conflict.  I also discovered gaping plot holes, and huge pacing inconsistencies.  But again, editing, right?  My main worry here was that I fear that this episode is not as exciting as the others.  I personally didn’t feel as invested in it as I did the first two, mainly because I didn’t really have a story for it or a direction.  The story isn’t as dramatic as the first two episodes, but I still need to get the readers to invest, and to not confound them with a hell of a lot of computer jargon and evolutionary theory.  I guess I failed at this point, because act two is just that, a long discussion about biological evolution and its technological counterpart.  Also, tonally, the characters are all over the place.  The central character goes from being a loser, to a perv, to a genius, back to weird, to possible rapist…  But this is the kind of thing you should expect if you’re just plain writing.  It’s almost stream of consciousness.  Once that thread has been found however, you can go back and change accordingly; the edit will iron all those out.  Having a definite deadline will do this to you.  Pushing yourself to write, even if you don’t have a direction, will sometimes yield spectacular results.  For instance, in trying to get this episode dragged to its conclusion, I actually managed to come up with a convincing storyline to lead into the lesbian episode. 

Now if that isn’t motivation enough I don’t know what is.

‘Shouldn’t you be writing the script instead?’

Fool!

True. But actually this week has been productive because of one thing. I’ve found my voice. Now voice is the most important thing for a writer. Sure you can write the best medical drama ever, but if you know nothing about hospitals (unless you can get one to collaborate with) this will be an ugly mess. Of course as the writer of the original book it was quite easy to tap into the voice, however, the problem was how to present it. Now the problem with the book is that it is mostly a first person narrative. Though there is lots of character interaction, most of this is interrupted by inner thoughts. How do I approach that? Well, I had a number of options.

1. The Voice Over.
2. The Talk to the Camera.
3. Ignore it Altogether.
4. A mixture of 1 and 2.

I tried writing the first chapter (which you can read here… (link) cheap plug) first using Option 3. I tried to break it down into a normal scene. Go from A-B. But it didn’t work. And the reason was that by doing this I lost a lot of the dialogue that could not realistically be spoken, and I also lost a lot of the character. This way would also have a drastic knock-on effect on the rest of the book as it is almost 60-70% inner monologue.

Ok, how about Option 2.) ?

Well, the problem is twofold.

Firstly, the comparison with High Fidelity and others is too great in this mode.
Secondly, as these thoughts happen so frequently the talk to the camera would either have to be restricted and once again lose some of the character or be so frequent as to be distracting.

A mixture of 1 and 2 was a thought, but maybe a little odd to figure out which bits would be which.

Which leaves me with Option 1.

Voice over seems the best route. In fact, it’s perfect as reading the book back, I found an over exaggerated element to the book. Something which would be greatly improved by voice over and also flash cuts (Quick cuts from the real world to the imaginary and back). So that was decided. The voiceover would introduce the scene or ‘day’, comment on the background thoughts of Michael and the rest of the action would just play out around them.

Once you make any decision like this it’s best to stick to it. Sure you can change your mind, but when you’re fifty pages in and you decide it’s not right all you have is fifty pages of wasted time. As soon as I decided on that I had to stick to it. Those fans of Bladerunner, ignore that thought as obviously voice over/non-voice over is possibly the biggest debate that science fiction fans have. But late on Thursday I sat down, 33 Steps at hand and started writing. And then

BAM    BAM    BAM    BAM

Four scenes were done? Four sections of my 33 steps were done! 12% of my film was done!

If I kept that pace up on a weekly basis, I’d be done in nine weeks. It was incredible, as soon as I had found my voice it just flowed from me, sweeping up the book in itself and transferring it.

It should be noted now that the chance of anyone completing a perfect script in less than three months is absurd. So I will assure you blog ten will probably be documenting my failure to keep up this pace or will be:

Rewrite Rewrite Rewrite… actually, it may just be that anyway.

Well, we shall see…