It seems to be a received wisdom that writing is an architectural endeavour where the superstructure can only be emplaced once the framework has been erected.
I cannot be the only person who doesn’t work this way, although popular ‘writing tools’ like Y-Writer and Scrivener are very definitely oriented to it. I tried to use both and couldn’t get the hang of the concept. And I do fully accept that the failing is probably mine and not theirs.
During the Creative Writing course I did around 2008/9/10 there was an exercise which illustrated my problem. Initially it was to write an atmospheric piece about something mundane. I chose a chair. The next step was to write the synopsis and outline for a novel based on that piece. I enjoyed both exercises. But when I revisited it earlier this year to see if there was any meat in it for a book, I could not get any traction or interest. The outline told me the story, including how it ended. I didn’t need to write it.
And this is why I avoid these tools. And also, possibly, why I am so addicted to the first-person narrative.
My stories are told to me by the characters. I frequently go into encounters not having a clue what will happen. Sometimes things are revealed which mean that earlier texts have to be rewritten. Part of this is that the characters are to some extent (although don’t tell them I said this) unreliable and partisan in their accounts. Sometimes they fail to mention things that are critical to understanding what is happening. That can make it very hard for a reader to follow and necessitate my going back and inserting the key details, so that the story makes sense. It does mean that I frequently fail to conform to accepted norms of plot structure. That is not a major worry for me. It may also mean that the stories can ramble which does concern me. People are like that though, and sometimes they get upset if I am too editorial with what they tell me.
Sometimes though they omit details that should have been there and look stupid added later. For example, I only just picked up, from a chance comment of Helen’s, that there is a river running through Volantis City. Nobody had mentioned it, nor the three bridges over it. They all thought it was obvious. But there is no point in being annoyed with them or they just clam up.
So with the second book of the Far Coast finished, I am waiting for another voice to speak to me. I have no clue right now whether it will be Michael Edge, or Sadhbh, or Eldred, or perhaps Melanie. But I’m sure it will be someone.
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