Going Deeper: A Process Rather Than A Technique
By Robin LaFevers | May 11, 2012 |
Therese butting in for a second to officially welcome Robin LaFevers to Writer Unboxed as a regular contributor. So glad you’re with us, Robin!
In the comments of my guest post last month, a number of people wanted to know what techniques allowed me to dig deep and find the crunchier stories I had to tell, so I thought I’d tackle that subject for my First Official Post here at Writer Unboxed.
However, as I’ve thought about it over the last few weeks, something became clear to me: there is not a single technique or even a handful of them, but rather a long, multi-year process full of steps and stages.
Going deeper involves exposing oneself, but by degrees rather than all at once. A sense of peeling back a little skin, one layer at a time, seeing how much it stings, acclimating, then doing the whole thing over again and revealing a little more. Like those sunburns you used to get as a kid or of a snake, shedding his skin.
In order to do that, we have to be willing to explore our self—what are our issues? No really. The ones we don’t like to face or talk about. The ones that make us squirm, or we’re reluctant to admit even to our therapist. I hate to be the one to tell you, but those are where some of our most powerful writing will spring from. It’s not only a matter of following your weird, but looking even deeper than that to why you are weird in the first place. What need or hole is that weirdness/quirkiness/avant garde-ness filling? Yeah, you have to look there. Then you have to find a way to get some of that rawness into the story itself.
We need to fail. Gloriously. Aim high, swing big, and then let yourself fall flat on your face. (It’s okay, no one will see!) Experiencing failure is simply part of the process. Our characters don’t change or grow unless they are forced to by the events of the story, and neither will we. Rejections, bad reviews, lackluster sales, painful critique feedback, are all necessary lumps on the road to our objective. Then we need to be humble enough to hear what that feedback is telling us. Sometimes the feedback won’t be the obvious kind—a rejection or editorial letter—but rather simply not making progress on our journey. Keep your eyes peeled for that kind of subtle hint the Universe likes to taunt us with.
Almost every successful writer I know gave up writing altogether at one point and walked away. It’s an important part of the process because giving up often provides the window for a breakthrough. Also? If you’re not pushing yourself hard enough that you sometimes feel like giving up, then maybe you’re not pushing yourself hard enough.
We need to accept that oftentimes the reason we started writing is probably not going to be the reason we continue writing. For some, doing something as daring as writing stories or becoming an author is a hard thing to admit to. We are shocked by our own audacity. So our creative self tells our more rational self the necessary lies that will get us moving in the right direction: I can make a lot of money writing books, I will be famous, I will be respected, (I warned you they were lies!) I can write a better book that this one I just paid $10 for, and on and on and on. Eventually though, that hunger to be published should morph into something else. A love affair with writing, a personal quest, a creative outlet, a way to keep sane, a simple joy, or the thrill of finally—finally—capturing the wonderfulness of the idea on the page.
For those of you who want something more immediate and concrete than that, here are some actual techniques that I’ve found most helpful. (Be warned–they’re still not particularly quick.)
- Be willing to produce a lot of material that won’t make the final cut. It can be in the form of multiple drafts as you get to know your character, or story journals (I have about six story journals for each published book I produce AND I never do less than seven drafts) or exploratory scenes or simply note taking. Monday, Keith Cronin talked about how writing is similar to carving an elephant. But here’s the thing: we writers don’t have so much as a block of marble or lump of clay or even paints with which to create. Writers are required to produce the material from which they will then craft the book. So recognize that your early drafts and story journaling are essentially creating the material, rather than writing the story you will be telling.
- Don’t rush. Don’t rush. Don’t rush. Not the ten thousand hours part and absolutely not the submitting your work part. Give all your manuscripts time to percolate, stew, and ferment. If you do this, you will be surprised by three things: How much more easily you recognize your own work’s flaws, how cleverly your subconscious has solved some of the issues for you while you weren’t looking, and you will be delighted when you go back to make changes and find the lovely trail of breadcrumbs your muse left to lead you to your true story, as if she knew you’d get there all along.
- Getting words on the page is not as important as getting the right words on the page. Don’t get so caught up in meeting word goals that you don’t give yourself enough time to think about the story you want to tell, play with it, explore it, day dream about it.
- Revising is not polishing. Revising is being willing to take the whole thing apart and put it back together again in an entirely different way. Or start all over again, from scratch. Put in the work that the story requires. Demands.
- It’s all about the arc. Think archetype rather than stereotype. One touches on the very roots of the human experience and the other is flat.
- Put something vital of your self into each of your protagonists. Take at least one core emotion or defining characteristic that is yours, if not now, then back in the distant murky past and give it to your character. That’s not to say that each character is us; far from it. But we need a point of entry, a point of access, like the opening in a glove through which we can slip our hand, allowing us to enter, not only their world, but their very skin. It is pretty much that simple, but it is far from easy. Not to mention terrifying. Which is why it is sometimes easiest to pretend no one is ever going to see it.
- Try writing by hand. I know in this day of iPads, laptops, netbooks, and Voice Recognition Software, that can seem SO old school. But when we write by hand, we access and utilize a completely different section of our brain than when we use a keyboard. So try it—you might be surprised by what that part of your brain has to say.
Sadly, none of these things listed here is something you can sit down and do in a week. They all take time and are part of the long, glorious apprenticeship that writing demands. But it’s important to remember that life isn’t about finding what comes easily to you; it’s about finding what you love enough to work really, really hard at.
Photo courtesy Flickr’s Stephen A. Wolfe
Robin LaFevers is the author of seventeen books for young readers, including the HIS FAIR ASSASSIN trilogy about teen assassin nuns in medieval France and the upcoming COURTING DARKNESS. A lifelong introvert, she currently lives on a blissfully quiet hill in Southern California.
I can only write in longhand with an HB pencil on paper. I definitely write deeper that way. Great article.
Judy, South Africa
Robin,
Welcome to WU and thanks for such a thoughtful post packed with great tips. I especially liked number 1, the need for writers to realize that first draft is really the process of discovering what the story is and going back and writing it. Also I loved the line about how revising is not polishing. Revising involves major structural work. Polishing comes later in the process. This post really reflects a lot of deep thinking about the craft. Thanks again, Robin, and I can’t wait to read more from you.
Welcome and thanks for the excellent post, Robin. Like Judy (hi Judy!!), I find that I’m more prolific when I write in my paper notebooks instead of composing on my laptop.
Also, I really appreciate the validation and direction that the rest of your post provides. Great advice and insight.
When I was looking for places and ways to dig deeper, a non-writer, trusted reader gave me the shovel. She was interested only in the story, not in the details of the writing, if that makes sense. She asked questions about the characters and pressed me to open up about them on the page because she was curious or wanted more in certain places. She didn’t have to work to relinquish her power over the actual writing (as a writer-reader might have to do) because she trusted me to do the writing. I found that with her insights on board, I was able to dig deeper than ever before.
That’s really interesting! I haven’t asked a reader-reader to read a draft for me in a long time. Food for thought.
I’ve found one of those reader-readers, too. The rare bird who is more concerned with story than style, but who has the patience and attention to detail needed to provide line-by-line questions and feedback.
It’s been so helpful.
Wonderful blog! Will pick up my pen and paper more often.
Wow – these are good tips and so well expressed! Especially number 1. I can now look at those stacks of journals and notebooks and realize I have raw material to start from. Thanks!
I liked the idea that writers create the material we then have to shape. If I were to look at what came out first and had to think, “this is it,” I’d just go back to bed and cover my head. Those were encouraging words about creating the material – thank you, Robin.
I’m teaching a writing workshop next month, and just yesterday made a note about how important it is to put a little of you in each character. Glad to see the idea validated! This is all great, great advice! I especially love #2. Seems like the internet has sped everything up. I know I feel the hot breath of other writers and the changing publishing climate on my neck when I go online. But I can’t help thinking good work doesn’t come out of all this speed. Or at least not for me.
Welcome Robin,
Thank you for describing this process so adroitly. You really inspired me this morning. We can find hundreds of bullet points daily on the web for writing technique, but the process is really what I am interested in. Having chosen to write as my life’s work, I’ve chosen a process, not a construct of techniques, a deep way of existing in the world, not a network of devices to get through the day.
Working in my garden yesterday I was reminded of how much the process is like writing. You can’t be afraid to get your hands dirty. Trying to grow living things–like plants, and children–reminds me I must have patience and commit to the process because I’m really not in control of anything else.
Very inspiring post! I especially appreciate your sixth tip. Adding something small but significant from my life into my stories is very important for me. It helps the story come alive as I write it and creates the emotional value I need to keep writing. Thank you!
I’m so glad I’m not the only one who relies on paper and pens!
And yes, realizing that all the early drafts are simply raw material from which to write the true story was an epiphany for me.
Also, a good beta reader is worth her weight in GOLD! Sounds like yours is a keeper, Amy.
Sensational advice, Robin, so glad you’ve joined the WU crowd.
I’m with you on every point…except that writing by hand thing. To me, the wrong words glare and the right words make themselves at home on the screen.
But hey, different keystrokes. This post is another keeper. Thanks.
Hi, Robin. Your first tip is very validating for me. I am currently revising my first ms, and it was disheartening to find that when I started pulling pieces together to form a linear narrative, I left behind more words than I will use! I am keeping that raw material for a second novel (and maybe a third!).
I’ve gotten so much from your posts so far. Glad to have you here!
Thank you so much! Story journals, multiple drafts, writing by hand, not rushing. All these things I do, and it’s not fast or immediate, but reading your view of things makes me think that maybe I’m on the right track.
Welp, this touches so many of my exposed nerves, I hardly know where to start. Considering quiting, check; realizing the reason I started might not be the reason I continue, yep; needing to be willing to put something vital, from the murky depths of myself, into each of my protagonists, that too; finding I might need a seventh draft, and that revising is not just polishing, just now getting to that–the hard way. Like just in the last few weeks.
And so, the long, glorious apprenticeship continues. Welcome to WU, Robin! And thanks for the reality check!
Sorry about all those exposed nerves, Vaughn! Sadly, exposed nerves are Standard Operating Procedure for this writing path we’ve chosen. I’m not wildly fond of that part, I must admit. :-)
Beautiful, Robin. I’m printing this out and pasting over my desk.
I don’t think I realized that the early drafts were story journals and that makes total sense. I definitely want to start doing story journals – great idea!
I love writing on paper. It’s the way my brain/hand prefer to work most of the time. Wonderful steps Robin – thanks!!
I’m so glad you joined Writer Unboxed. Your blog today set off all kinds of bells in my thinking. I especially liked your comment that unlike a sculptor, writers must first produce the material and then craft the book. A good way to look at the process. Thank you!
I’m thrilled you’re on board, Robin.
Love all of this, but particularly the glove metaphor. Beautiful and apt.
Another brilliant post, Robin! Thanks for the inspiration and congratulations on your hard-earned success!
So much wisdom in this post, Robin. Thank you!! (And I lovelovelove this: “the long, glorious apprenticeship that writing demands”.)
Revising is not polishing. I should tattoo that advice on my arm.
I question the different brain parts working when writing long hand. I find writing with pen and paper incredibly tiresome. I can type almost as fast as I think, but I can’t write anywhere near as fast.
Plus I can’t read my own writing.
Mari, I too can type much faster than I can write by hand, and I think that’s where part of the value lies. Typing works great for action scenes or parts of the mss where the faster pacing of it works for the story.
But for those parts when you need to explore the characters’ deeper, inner workings, I think the speed of typing works against us. When we’re thinking, emoting, and processing deep heavy stuff in real life, our thoughts aren’t usually zipping along but rather mulling/stewing/pondering/contemplating, etc., which are slower processes and if we rush them, I think we miss important steps.
But absolutely, everyone’s mileage will vary!
Great tips and much needed reminders in this post. Thank you!
Thank you so much for this wonderful post. Everything you said resonated with me, especially the part about not rushing. It’s hard not to get caught up in word counts when that’s what everyone is Facebooking and Tweeting about, but I agree that there is much mulling and stewing and dreaming to be done before you ever type a word.
Wonderful post, Robin! I loved the idea of putting something of ourselves in each character. I run a poetry workshop with teens in a juvenile detention, and we write poems about our life experiences, and who we are. This is fertile jumping off ground for creating great characters who then will have a powerful story!
Wow, Mindy. That sounds like an amazing thing you’re doing with those kids. Glad that anything I said might help!
Inspiring post and thank you for the “don’t rush” bit. I’m slow and all the noise about daily word counts scares me. So glad to hear “don’t rush” validated.
Excellent post. Thank you, Robin. I started out writing when I was ten or so, and it has always been a driving need. It wasn’t until many, many years later I discovered people got paid for such a thing. I do the pre-work by hand, but I prefer the computer for the actual writing. Great advice about rushing and obsessing over word counts. I’ve finally gotten to the place of balance between setting goals to get things done without putting more pressure on myself.
LOVE this. Thank you, Robin, once again.
Learning to fall flat on your face repeatedly is crucial to becoming a better writer, and it’s also important to realize that you will probably never get so good that you are error-free.
#4 is the one I had (and still have) the hardest time accepting. When I first started writing, I expected my second-draft would be fine-tuning my nearly perfect first draft, but wow–it’s definitely not. Then with each new novel, I kept expecting my first drafts to be more and more perfect, so I would need less and less revision. Sooo not the case. I had to tear up so many pieces of my fourth manuscript and rearrange and edit them that the whole middle third happened in a different order in the second draft, and when you change that much, it’s almost like having a first draft all over again, full of new messiness. But shouldn’t it have been better? Shouldn’t I have reached perfection after learning from my previous efforts? Of course not! Even when you learn from past mistakes, there are plenty of new ones to make. But that means there is also plenty of room to grow.
You’ve no idea how I needed this today. Thank you, thank you, thank you. Ready to quit–but tomorrow will pick up a pen.
Welcome, Robin! And what a wise post to begin. We are all lucky to have you here.
That whole business of going within is the hardest, most rewarding part of the process. In the specific, we find the universal.
Great post, Robin, and welcome.
Denise Willson
Author of A Keeper’s Truth
Welcome to WU! What I found fascinating was the way you describe how, unlike other artists, writers have to not only create the raw material, they then have to mold it into something afterward. Great way to describe the writing process.
Patti
I have to read and reread this post. It says what I know to be true — that a writer must be authentic. I cannot write something that is not rooted in the real me. Wrong. I can write anything and pretend to be anything, but only the real stuff rings true with the reader. I must respect my reader enough not to pretend. I must respect my reader enough to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. Rich imagination is not pretending; it is pushing reality to be all it can be. When I read “Atonement,” I was struck by how powerfully this story recounted the way we think we know truth when we don’t, and yet the power of family transcends all the goofy things we think we know about one another. It is a story as real and brutal as this morning’s headlines while being simultaneously a story of love and forgiveness and family strength.
The more I hang around with writers, the more I realize that integrity is the most important character trait for a writer. Thank you for reinforcing that truth.
Beautifully, beautifully said Katherine! Authenticity and respecting the reader are key.
Thank you so much for sharing this with us. It’s something I really needed to hear, and I’m glad I’m not the only who relies on pen and paper at times. Nothing gets me out of funk, whether it’s plot related or just the general “block,” than sitting down with pen and paper and writing questions about the story, etc. Works for me every time.
And I love the idea (as one commentator said) about finding a reader-reader. That’s essential.
Thank you!
I love this post, and am posting it on my critique group’s Facebook page.
I echo Patricia above, about the importance of realizing that writers have to create their own materials before they can even start chipping away to find the book.
Regarding the value of writing all the words that don’t make it into the manuscript: last week, one of our group’s writers came not with ten pages of her novel, but a five page, simple narrative backstory of one of her characters. Things that wouldn’t be on the page of her novel, but so helpful in establishing the character in her mind. It inspired me to do the same, and got me through a block I’d been chipping at at for several weeks.
Great post!
Yes! Sometimes we’re stuck because we don’t know the character well enough or understand her deeply enough to know what she would do next. That material we write just to figure that stuff out has enormous value!
Yes, as Amy said, having a “non writer” read my stuff gives me insight into the “reader’s mind” so to speak — so I always do try to have one “beta reader” who is not a writer!
wonderful post . . .
I am so glad you are regular contributor to WU. I’ve gotten a lot out of your posts (and I loved, loved Grave Mercy).
Every one of your tips strikes home for me. I especially need the reminder about the importance of the arc, the contrast between archetype and stereotype. And I love the idea of making sure that every character has a shard of me somewhere inside.
I’m curious about your story journals. What sort of material do they include and how do you approach them (less formal writing?)?
Thanks again!
Oh yay! So glad you like the posts–and Grave Mercy!
For me, story journals are pretty much catch alls. The one I have next to me right now has snippets of dialog–both from a scene I know will be in the book, and one that was just an exploratory conversation between two characters so I could understand how they related.
I jot down notes on future scenes, or insights to the character I might have, or questions about them. I might hammer out the arc, try to translate the general arc steps into story or character specifics, or delineate the incremental emotional growth the character will need to reach a certain point in the story.
A really helpful technique for me is to journal as if I’m the character, writing in their journal, and exploring how they feel about what just happened, or what will happen, or their worries or concerns about an upcoming story event.
Sometimes I just write about what I will write about next time I’m ready to produce pages.
Story journals are basically a written form of all the bits and pieces of the story rolling around in my brain at any given time. :-)
“… we writers don’t have so much as a block of marble or lump of clay or even paints with which to create. Writers are required to produce the material from which they will then craft the book. So recognize that your early drafts and story journaling are essentially creating the material, rather than writing the story you will be telling.”
Wow and wow. I LOVESES this. Such a great image in my head of a Michelangelo standing in front of a giant pile of … stuff, with bits of clothing, and an arm, and an elephant head, and a purse, and an unidentified object that you’re not going to know what it is till the 3rd draft … and THEN beginning to carve. Delightful :)
Thank you, thank you, thank you. At a time when I see my fellow writers publishing right, left and centre, I felt reaffirmed that my recent massive revising is not only okay but necessary. BTW, Grave Mercy is sitting on the coffee table, my reward for when I get past a particularly sticky part of my wip.
That can be one of the hardest things, Moira, remaining focused on our path and doing what’s best for our own story. Here’s hoping that the time you put in now will bear rich fruit later!
Robin, you are the very soul of amazing. Always right on time with what I need to hear. Wish I could heed the not rushing part, but not an option right now. Perhaps next time! Thank, though, for the reminder to peel away the layers and find the true words beneath. xoxo
Ha. I planned that, Miss Tiffany. :-)
Good luck with all that peeling, and we’ll catch up on the other side of these deadlines!
Robin, you are brilliant and inspiring and so generous and helpful. I LOVESES this post, too. :-)
And I’m thrilled that I get to read the inside of your mind here at WU now that Shrinking Violets has gone into *retirement*. (But maybe not forever? One can only hope!)
I’d never had a reader-reader read one of my WIPs before until Circle of Secrets (Scholastic, 2011). After I had a fairly decent draft and was working on revisions, I happened to talk to a friend about some of the storyline and she mentioned having a particular life experience that my character was going through. I ended up having her read the manuscript. She couldn’t give me any line editing suggestions, (and didn’t want to!) but her insight into an aspect of the MC and her own feelings as a kid when that happened to her were very revealing and very helpful. I went back and rewrote part of my first two chapters based on her thoughts and personal experiences (not suggestions because she wasn’t “critiquing”) and boy, was I glad. It really helped define my characters feelings and her reactions to what was happening to her.
Your entire list here is completely wonderful and spot-on. THANK YOU. What a blessing you are to all of us, Robin!
[…] “In order to do that, we have to be willing to explore our self—what are our issues? No really. The ones we don’t like to face or talk about. The ones that make us squirm, or we’re reluctant to admit even to our therapist. I hate to be the one to tell you, but those are where some of our most powerful writing will spring from.” Going Deeper: A Process Rather Than A Technique – Writer Unboxed […]