If what I'm telling you now still isn't helping, go to the chapter on rewriting and follow the steps for getting into your story and characters. Go through the motions, step-by-step, even if it feels stupid. If you're in that state (nothing is any good), the main thing is to keep moving along, following the plan, until it gets good again—which it will, always, if you keep at it.
OK, that's a pretty meaty list. It's a lot to be going over in a five-minute session, so I want to give you some abbreviated versions you can carry with you and refer to easily in your five-minute sessions, especially if nothing seems to be working. Here's one shorter list:
One: Do you have a situation (blind date, unfaithful lover, an enemy out to get the character, etc.)? If not, explore possibilities in yourself. If that doesn't work, pick an idea from the course.
Two: Who is the main character? (The main character is the one with the biggest problem—the most to lose.) What does he want? If you're not sure, make a list of possible wants (want list). Once you have a want or a want list, figure out what the obstacle is. If you can't decide, make a list of possible obstacles (obstacle list). If you're not sure, don't lock yourself into anything. You're just exploring possibilities—for five minutes a day and in free moments.
Three: Want + Obstacle = Conflict is what you've explored in the second step. Now it's time for the character to act, to assert himself to try to overcome the obstacle and satisfy his want. So, what can he do to win out? His action should be a direct attack upon the problem. Again, if you're not sure, make a list of possible actions (action list). This list should include the result, the resolution to the struggle between the character and the obstacle. The resolution is the outcome. You may not (and do not have to) know what it is until you write your way to it.
Four: Each scene ends in a scene resolution in which things are worse than they were at the beginning, and it ends in the mind of the character as he is stewing over the problem, trying to figure out what's going on and what he should do next to win out.
Five: Your story should have some momentum by now if you have want, obstacle, action working. If you don't or you're not sure, go to the chapter on rewriting and follow the steps for getting the most out of your story and characters.
Here's an even shorter pocket list:
1. Situation. Check course story ideas if you have none.
2. Character want + obstacle (conflict).
3. Action (confrontation/struggle).
4. Resolution. Scene resolution. Things are worse at the end. End in character's mind.
5. If it's not working, go to the rewrite chapter and follow the steps.
Remember to analyze any scene or story to see what you've got. Always remember: Want: Who wants what? Where does the want first appear? Find it on the page. Do not work in your head. What does the character want? Could it appear sooner? How much does the character want it? Could he want it more? How? Obstacle: What's the obstacle? Where does it first appear? Find it on the page. Could it appear sooner? How threatening is it? Could it be more threatening? How? Action: Is the character taking direct action against the obstacle to defeat it and get what he wants? Where does the action first appear? Find it on the page. Could he act sooner? Is he doing his utmost? Could he do more? How?
Yes, it's WANT, OBSTACLE, ACTION, over and over and over, until it's coming out of your ears. It may seem like I'm overdoing it, but these are your keys to creating compelling stories. It cannot be done without them.
FROM 30 TO 365
I've stressed the thirty-day trial period to get a feel for what this method can do for you. Once you've done the thirty days and are able to see what you can accomplish in five minutes a day, your next commitment needs to be for one year.
To find yourself as a writer and experience some substantial progress, you should not be fussing around evaluating what you've done or how well you've done it on a daily, weekly, or even monthly
basis. There are too many slumps and surges and losses of perspective in all of this to permit any accurate judgments in the short term. Plus, we tend to evaluate our work when things are going badly—the worst possible time to judge anything. So, don't do it. It's been many a writer's downfall. And if and when you do evaluate, do it when things are going well and never when you're down.
So you must follow the system for a year straight, and keep going no matter what, if you're going to give yourself a fair chance. You should shoot for at least one hundred pages in that year. If you do that, at the end of the year, when you can look back over what you've done and compare your year-end writing with what you did at the beginning, I guarantee that you will be pleased.
The next few sections offer some cautions, tips, and reminders.
THE WORST
The worst thing you can do in all of this is to not write and not make meaningful contact with your writing for an extended or not so extended period. With this plan, there is no need to ever be away from your writing for any significant amount of time, because 5 minutes a day keep you in touch. The CARDINAL SIN in all of this is skipping the 5 minutes a day. Always, always, always make that daily contact. If you don't, when you get a chance to do some writing, you will be lost or, at the very least, creatively tense and stiff, and you'll flounder around trying to get into the swing of it, to loosen up, all the while losing time and running the risk of giving up. Do your 5 minutes— always.
BUT if due to forces beyond your control, you do miss your 5 minutes, never, never, never do extra to catch up. Don't say, "I missed yes-
terday, so I'll do ten minutes to catch up." Or worse, if you're into writing say a half hour a day and miss, don't ever tell yourself, "I didn't write for the half hour I had scheduled yesterday, so I'll do an hour today to keep my string going." Thou shalt not double up, ever. If you miss, forget it and go back to it tomorrow. If you're doing a lot (e.g., a half hour a day) and miss, you're better off dropping back a level for a day.
NOTHING = SOMETHING
With this method there is always something for you to do—even if it's nothing. With this technique, nothing is something. Your job, first and foremost, is to put in your time, always, no matter what. When you do, you actively, deliberately do nothing for 5 minutes, or you do something. Either way, you get full credit.
OUTPUT
Once you get into it, it's a good idea to limit the amount of time you spend sitting and mulling things over. The best way is to do a certain number of pages in the time you have. The minimum you should shoot for is one page every half hour. A sensible upper level would be three pages a half hour if you're writing by hand. You might do more if you're typing. I know people who can write five pages in a half hour by hand. A half hour a page leaves room for a lot of thought, too much maybe. Remember, it's better to do your thinking on the page. And faster writing is better writing. Dash it off. Come back and work it later.
FEELING IT
Writing is something you want to do—at least part of you does. But rarely when you sit down to do it, will you feel like it. And rarely will you feel like even sitting down to do it. So, never wait to feel it. Once you sit down to it, you will usually encounter more resistance. Especially at the beginning. Don't be surprised if you feel something like: This is crazy. What can you do in five minutes? I don't even get warmed up in fifteen minutes. A writer in five minutes a day, B.S. This is stupid. I'm wasting my time. Cleaver is a wacko, and I'm just as nuts for trying this, etc., etc., etc. To all of this you respond: OK, it's stupid. I'm stupid. It's a waste of time. Fine! But, I signed on for thirty days. I'll do it for thirty days and be done with it.
Another excellent way to defeat this kind of resistance is judo. Judo is using the power of the enemy to defeat him. With creative judo, you don't resist, ever. You go with whatever is in you. So, you say, or write: "I'm not writing today because . . ." "I can't stand doing this because . . ." "What I hate about this stuff is . . ." or "Why is there always resistance? Is it worth it? Will I ever get there?" etc. Whatever is in y
our mind, go with it, explore it. If you do, eventually it will lead you into something you feel is worth pursuing.
SLOP
No one's mind is 100 percent accurate. It's not supposed to be. The mind did not evolve for accuracy alone. It was never "intended" to be 100 percent accurate. This inaccuracy causes us to mix things that don't go together so that we can invent new ways of solving problems. There is no such thing as a photographic memory. Eighty percent is the maximum anyone has ever demonstrated. So, the very best we can
do is 20 percent error, 20 percent slop. That, and the fact that we are looking for new combinations when we write, account for why the process is messy, disorganized, sloppy. In this game, mistakes and errors are good. They help us uncover new relationships. Fiction is about finding order in disorder—how everything relates to everything else. So you're supposed to make mistakes, get lost, drift off on a tangent. The slop can be maddening, but it's also your friend.
LEAPING AND LOOKING
One way of thinking of what you're doing in all of this is you are training your imagination. Which isn't exactly true, since it's not particularly trainable. But it's always there, and it's always willing to work for you. It's going all the time whether you're in touch with it or not. What you can do is get in the way. When you're in the way, you may feel that you have no imagination, but your imagination is a lot stronger and more durable and inventive than the rest of your mind. But it obeys its own rules. (The more you push it, the less you get, etc.) So, you don't train it. If anything, it trains you.
You have to learn how to follow your imagination's rules. Now, that's something you knew from the beginning. Little kids know it, since they haven't learned to approach things in a way that stifles the imagination. They haven't learned to plan ahead, to prepare, to think it through, to organize their thoughts before starting, to outline, to be careful, etc. All of this is what the educational system and the work world train us to do. And all of it is death to creativity. In creating, you leap first and look later.
If you want your imagination to work for you, you must learn to open the door and step aside. It leads. You follow. And if you do it long enough, if you don't allow your doubts and worries and fears to
do you in, you will be rewarded. You will do less, and your imagination (subconscious) will do more. It will carry the load if you learn how to let it. Then, when you get into bed at night, when you turn onto the expressway or take your seat on the train, your mind will go there on its own. Your imagination will take you where you need to go.
There's nothing new about any of this. This is daydreaming. The technique I've laid out follows the natural currents of your mind. It takes some doing, but if you stick with it long enough to make the connection, to internalize it, to make it a part of you, you will discover what a great game this can be.
EXERCISES
Dealing with a nasty waiter/waitress or salesperson.
Dealing with a difficult child.
A character trying to figure out if he or she loves someone or not— if it's "the real thing."
[13] Dead Weight
WHAT YOU CAN IGNORE
Earlier, I said that this story model is important for what it is, for what it includes, but just as important for what it isn't, for what it excludes—for what it saves you having to grapple with. Now I want to be more specific about what's excluded so that if you run into any of it, you'll recognize it and won't be confused or waste time wrestling with it. The few story elements and techniques (conflict, action, resolution, emotion, showing) I've given you take care of everything you need to do to create successful stories.
THE RAZOR
There's a principle in science called Occam's razor. It says that the simplest, most direct explanation is the best. So, although the theory that the Sun revolves around the Earth can actually be made to work with some mathematical contortions, we go with the simpler explanation that the Earth revolves around the Sun. It's simpler. It's more direct It works better.
This issue comes up a lot when we have an unexplained phenomenon, especially the kind that people start attributing to extraterrestrials. One of the more recent ones was the crop circles in England. Perfectly formed circles imprinted in the crops started appearing on farms. Visiting spaceships, right? Look far away for an explanation. That's more exciting and romantic. They set up all-night cameras in some crop fields in the area, and guess what they found? Two guys sneaking into the fields dragging weighted platforms around to make the circles. The more immediate, direct explanation turned out to be true.
Writing is tricky enough. You don't need any vague concepts, any excess baggage, to drag along while you're doing it. I'm going to go over a couple of things specifically to show you what I'm talking about, then give you a list of unnecessary terms and considerations that you need not bother with.
The concept of beginning, middle, and end is a good example. In the introduction I told you about my first experience with this idea. I'll repeat it here and then tell you what it really means. "Be sure your story has a beginning, a middle, and an end," one of my writing professors once said.
Ah ha! That was it. It made perfect sense. That's what I needed to do. I went straight home and sat down to write a story with a beginning, a middle, and an end. I stared at the paper. A beginning? What did that mean, exactly? And what was the middle of a story, and how was it different from the beginning and the end? And the end, that's what I was having all the trouble with. Damn, I was back where I started.
At the next class, I asked, "Last time you said to write a story with a beginning, a middle, and an end, but I'm not sure what they are exactly."
"Well," he said with a little smile, "the beginning comes first. The middle comes next. And the end comes last."
Everyone laughed. I didn't ask again.
But now I know what they are, and so do you. The beginning of a story is the emergence of the conflict (want meets obstacle). The middle is the struggle (action). The end is the resolution. They're already covered by conflict, action, and resolution, so there's no need to get into terms like beginning, middle, and end that are once removed and unnecessary.
Then there's this thing they call character development. I often have people come to me and say, "My plots are good, but my characters aren't developed enough." That tells me that the plot isn't working well either. What does character development mean? How does a character develop? How do we get a sense of who he is? A character is expressed (developed) by the way he handles his problems—how he acts when he's faced with an obstacle or a threat. Action is character. If you write a story using the model I've given you, your character will develop whether he or you want him to or not. He must develop. He must get off his ass and act in a meaningful way no matter what. This story model makes him act, makes him develop.
Voice and style are two other issues that come up. Some workshops' single goal is to "help you find your voice." Well, you don't need any help in finding your voice. Your voice and your style will emerge on their own if you write enough. They're a product of who you are, of your personality and your preferences. I don't differentiate between voice and style, although I'm sure there are people who do. Also, there's nothing wrong with trying to write exactly like Hemingway or Faulkner (two very different styles/voices). In the end, you will find your own way of doing it. It will emerge automatically, because of who you are.
Two other unnecessary issues, character biographies and premise, are covered in chapter 9, on method.
Another issue is outlining. At least one prominent author says that to be successful you must outline your story before you start. (Remember, anyone who tells you what you must do is talking about himself and what he must do.) Again, there is no real need for outlining—unless it helps, unless it's your thing. Most writers feel it's just another burden. Most writers don't want to be tied down to a whole story plan at the beginning. They prefer the adventure of exploring things on the page as they go along—feeling their way, being open
to whatever pops up. One writer said, "Outline? Sure, I'll give you an outline—as soon as I finish the book."
Again, outlining (planning your story out) is worth a try if it makes sense to you. It might be your thing. Also, it's never one or the other, never all or none. You may plan one story and just jump in with no plan on the next one. You might lay out a scene or a chapter in great detail and jump in blind for the next chapter or the rest of the book. Outlining might be your thing for a long time, but then you might outgrow it. Nothing is static in this game.
Likeable character. Few things are more intimidating than having someone tell you that your character isn't likeable. And a good way to get stuck is to try to make him likeable. How would you do that? Have him help an old lady across the street or donate money to the poor? Likeability isn't a technical term. But identification is. Identification we can make happen. A character who is struggling with a threatening problem and is worried and frightened that it will defeat him will cause us to identify. Identifying is liking.
What about the need to pick a story that's interesting? One writing book says, "If you're going to bother to write a story, for God's sakes, be sure to make it interesting." The book fails to tell you what creates interest in a story or how to make it happen. The book did not even define "interesting" in a useable way. Be interesting! How intimidating is that? And why be just interesting? Why not be fascinating, captivating, mesmerizing? The answer to "interesting" is the same as the answer to likeability. Identification. If you've identified, you're interested—at the very least. Creating identification (revealing character through conflict and struggle) is what it's all about. Don't let yourself get distracted.
Here's a list of other concepts we don't get into and don't need to get into because the story model we use covers them all: Inciting incident. Plot points. Back story. Through line. Sequels. Verisimilitude. Believability. Beats. Context. Text. Story spine. Story event. Story value. Sequence. Story arc. Character arc. Arch plot. Mini plot. Antiplot.
tmp8E3A Page 18