The Not So Beginner's Guide to Getting Better at What You Do

In acting school, I heard it posited that learning is divided into three stages. Learning the thing for the first time, gaining some facility, and finally assimilation. Stage one is self-conscious. We lurch around trying out the newness, trying to make it work as well for us as it did for whoever taught it to us. In stage two, we've worn in the skill a little and it no longer pinches. We're still aware of it and we use it like a tool, but maybe now, we're not hurting ourselves with it. Once we move into assimilation, we lose conscious awareness of the skill. It becomes a part of us and we can't remember not having had the skill in the first place.

I wonder, Jeffe, if that isn't the basis for those professors you mention wondering if writing can be taught. They're using skills they can no longer dissect into teachable tidbits.

I fully recognize that I am one of those people who has to always be learning something. I also need to mix it up - it can't always just be writing. But it needs to be a lot of writing. Honestly, I look for the classes and instructors I ran across as a beginner that I *knew* I wasn't ready for. The concepts and classes they were teaching were far beyond what I was able to process. Now that I have a few books out and I feel like I don't like how my writing is developing, I've searched out those classes and teachers. I can offer up a list of a few, but I feel like a caveat is in order first.

One of the prerequisites for being an -- I don't know -- advanced? intermediate? not beginner? writer is a firm commitment to go into a class, workshop, or instructional book you paid money for and question the premises that are presented to you. I'm reading a great book right now that promises to boost my productivity! Make it so I'm never lost in a book again! And so far, the information has been super useful. But we just got to a blanket statement made by the author. "Story comes first. Then character." This is me. Making that face Chris Hemsworth makes in Thor Love and Thunder. "Story comes first. Then character." Does it though?? (The correct answer is yes - it does. For her. The correct answer for me is no - it does not. Character comes first and story flows naturally from character for me.  Does this mean that what is being taught is invalid? No. I can still glean new ways of doing, thinking, and writing from this book. I'm trying to say that once you've got game, when you're trying to tweak your game to get more out of it, you must be more critical of the instruction you're given. Try things! Just don't swallow all the things hook, line, and sinker. If the mixed metaphors in this paragraph gives you a migraine, welcome to my day, and my apologies.

So the list of advanced for Marcella craft training ops:

Margie Lawson's writer's training - in my opinion you need a block of salt here. It's potent, great stuff, but it's also dated and little old fashioned in the market these days. Great skill sets. Deploy with caution.

Lisa Cron -  Lisa produces craft books oriented around how narrative structure comes together. Fascinating stuff. Chewy. Also needs a critical eye when being read.

Mary Buckham   - Mary has several different craft classes. Break into Fiction is the one that changed my life for the better.

I'm interested in what Jeffe comes up with, too! Listen. Learning new skills is never wasted. If you feel like a class is a waste it is either because it's too remedial - you already know the material, or it's too far ahead and you don't yet have the context for it yet.

What I Write Before I Write

 

I can tell you all about what I write before I start writing a draft of a book. But the fact is that I'm in the market at the moment. What I've been doing is inadequate to the way my life works right now. Flux is the kindest word I can conjure. Here's what I've done in the past, though:

Nothing. I jump in. I usually have a concept. From that concept, I see if I can write three chapters as a proof of concept. If I can do that, THEN I stop and go back to pre-writing work. That comes in the form of super in-depth character templates. I use the ones from Break into Fiction by Mary Buckham. They begin and end with what drives your characters. It's a lot of psychology and delving into old psychic wounds. It's really great if you're a character driven writer. It worked brilliantly for me for years - years I didn't have an overwhelming full time job, and aging parents living with me. It worked when I had time and brain space for staying immersed in the characters and their feelz.

Those days are gone for the moment. I can either admit that, or I can go on wasting my life waiting for it to 'get better'. What I need now is a means for adding a plot outline or a necessary scene list so I can maximize the tiny windows of writing time I do have. The downfall of the character templates is that they leave your story open - you can still pants your way through a book with character drives and emotions and wounds. That's fine - it's just a bigger investment in time, in my experience. Lovely if you have the privilege. Less so if you're working three jobs.

Maybe this is where writing goes from being self-indulgent fun thing to wallow around in and explore. Maybe under duress, it grows up into something a little more -- I don't know. Packaged? I feel like I'm asking for creative briefs for my own content. Oh hey, did I mention I'm a technical writer for the day job? Yeah. That's all packaged. It's my job to interview the person who hired us and find out what they want in a piece of writing (and when and for how much). Then I find out what source material they have to teach me and the other writers about the product we'll write about. I'm proposing using the character templates as my source material to teach me about my own content. My goal now is to come up with a clearly defined definition of what's required in the end product based on what I know from the source material and what I know about what I'll find fun and interesting about the story.

I mean it *sounds* like a good idea.

Here's hoping it'll do the job. Cause what's happening (or not) right now, just ain't working.

Stealing the Best and Leaving the Rest

A year or so ago, I went to a friend's house. We were making supper together, running our mouths and generally having a great time. Until she tried to clean a head of cauliflower. She had an itty bitty cutting board and a tiny, dangerously dull paring knife. I watched her hack away a green leaf or two for several seconds, my heart in my mouth, as she complained about how hard it is to cut up cauliflower.

Terrified that she was going to slice off a digit, I stopped her and asked if I could cut up the veggie while she moved on to other things. She gladly handed over the knife and the innocent head of cauliflower. I brought out the cutting board I'd brought - one at least three times the size of hers, and I brought out my 8 inch Shun knife. (Yes. When someone asks me over to help cook dinner, I do take my own tools.) I turned that cauliflower on its head, set my knife against the stem and sliced the whole thing in half like it was soft butter.  Within 120 seconds, I had the cauliflower cored and chopped, ready for the pan.

My hostess said bad words and demanded to know what she'd been doing wrong. The answer was simply: Wrong tools for the job.

Writing training, to me, is precisely the same. If you've never seen anyone take apart a book the way my hostess had never seen anyone take apart a big vegetable, you'll never know that your tools are inadequate to the job you're trying to do. So I'm always interested in how someone else approaches the task of building a novel and a career.

For me, as I take a writing class, I remind myself that I'm sorting through someone else's toolbox, just trying the tools on for size. Some don't fit my hand and never will. Others kinda sorta fit and might actually fit perfectly once I level up enough to need them. On rare occasions, I find a new tool - a new way of approaching story, a question for a character sketch that lays that person out for me. Whatever it is, I have zero compunction about picking up that tool and claiming it as my own.

My Zen attitude was hard won over several years, though. Used to be, I'd go to a workshop and come out convinced that I was doing writing all wrong. It would send me into a tailspin for weeks. I don't know when and how it changed, but I finally wised up. I wasn't doing anything wrong. I was simply doing things my way - and possibly with faulty tools. The people teaching workshops weren't there to judge my methods, they were merely sharing what worked for them in the off chance that someone else could use it, too. Now, it's all listening to presenters talk, picking up books on craft, and making sure I get words every day.

Where you go to learn depends entirely on what you're wanting to level up. I DO recommend pacing yourself. Work on one thing at once. Don't tackle deep POV the same month you're working on eliminating telling words. Trying to pay attention to everything at once is the road to perdition.

I go to Mary Buckham and will take just about any class she has to offer because I've learned that Mary speaks my language and has the unique ability to break down story, character, scene and sequel, and hooks in a way I can process. This is thick stuff, though. Light 'n fluffy it ain't.

Conferences - especially the conferences aimed at the business end of writing. If I were looking for an agent or a new editor, I'd go to RWA National. I'd go to workshops and I'd pitch. But those aren't my goals now so I save my pennies for the annual NINC conference. It is jammed full of workshops and presentations from various vendors who work with the indie published authors. It's the place where indie authors gossip and chat about business. I learn more in those three days than I do almost a year long.

The hard news, though? There aren't enough tools in the world will change it if you don't write the thing.

Learn craft, sure. But above all, learn yourself.

The Four Steps to Starting

There are four stages of starting anything. I'd tack "for me" onto the end of that, but since I'm writing this, I'm gonna go ahead and assume you've worked that part out already.

Step 1. Boredom

This is how the whole story telling thing began for me - long stretches of silence with nothing to do while tucked into the backseat of a car while the family drove from one military posting to another. Long stretches of highway, watching the scenery go by, imaging what went on in the forests or in the towns behind the facades of houses and businesses. Eventually, I liked the stories playing in my head enough to write them down. Once that happened, I could be bored anywhere and come up with a story idea. Usually as snippets of dialog. Angsty, drama-ridden dialog, but you have to start somewhere, right?

Step 2. Names and Situation

This is my proof of concept step. From angst and drama, I have to come up with a compelling situation - the background, the world, the people, and a general sense of how the story might begin and how it might end. Ish. I need only a general notion. This, for me, is no time for detail. Lots of note taking and journaling happens at this step. I play a lot of 'what if' games. But one thing is certain, without character names, I'm dead in the water. The protagonists must step forward and identify themselves. This is where I need characters to develop the beginnings of voice - this is the illusion that these people actually live and breathe and have wills of their own outside of my imagination. This is the point that the monster has to rise from my laboratory table and either go forth to wreak havoc or collapse in a mass of stitched together body parts that are all going to have to be burned before they start stinking up the place.

Step 3. Character, Character, Character

Once I have a general notion of a story and some character names, it's time to dive deep, and for me, everything comes from character. Everything. The plot, the conflict, black moment, and the climax. I spend about a week working my way through Mary Buckham's Break Into Fiction templates for all of my major characters. Protagonist(s) and antagonist at the very least. If it's a romance, I'll work through hero and heroine. This step also serves as my initial immersion point for the story - meaning that at this stage, I'm spending several hours a day buried in questions about who my characters are, why they are who they are and what they believe they know about themselves but have totally wrong. This is where conflict is born for my stories. It's also where scene lists begin building. If you're writing genre fiction, you have to build scenes that challenge your protagonists' assumptions about themselves and motivate them into change (there's your character arc). If you're writing literary fiction, your scenes will rub a character's nose in his or her faulty assumptions, but not force the character to change, though he or she may come to comprehend his or her faults.

Step 4. Word Count

This is the point at which there are no more excuses. Armed with a few markers (I usually know how a story opens and I have a soft grip on how it might end - everything else is a blur) and with a pretty good understanding of my characters and what drives them, I can start making tracks. The form of my story is still vague. I'm usually flying blind once I get past the first few opening scenes, but with my character's templates filled out, I have guideposts to keep me pursuing their goals and challenging their weaknesses even if I don't know exactly what happens in the middle of the book.

That's my summary of 'how to begin'. Do you follow any kind of pattern for starting something? What I'm curious about is how plot-driven writers approach starting a book. (As opposed to a character-driven writer.)