Process and Product
By Dave King | September 17, 2013 |
photo by dslrpena
Lately, I’ve seen quite a few beginning writers coming on the Writer Unboxed Facebook page to ask about their process. Are they outlining enough? Should they be using a looser outline? What sort of software is available to help them keep everything organized? How do you do this? Am I doing it right? These are understandable questions when you’re first starting out. And the WU community usually comes up with pretty good advice, generally of the “Do what works for you” variety. But I’d like to take it one step further – don’t even think about your process.
Your readers certainly won’t. They’ll be paying attention to your story and your characters, and you should do the same. Granted, when you’re just beginning, you might want to experiment with various processes to find which one feels most comfortable to you. But you should never worry that you’re not doing it right. There is no right.
As an editor, I’ve worked with writers who have used techniques across the entire spectrum. Some started with a particularly clear scene, or character, or even a title, and let their stories grow naturally, learning what came next as they wrote it on the page. Others have written up not just outlines, but spreadsheets of character attributions and plot points. Either technique can produce widespread success. J. K. Rowling developed elaborate outlines of each of the Harry Potter novels, and is now richer than the queen. Rex Stout reportedly wrote a single draft of all the Nero Wolfe novels. Last I checked, every one of them is still in print.
Then there’s Noel “Hot Lead” Loomis. Hot Lead didn’t get his nickname for the shoot-em-up westerns he wrote back in the fifties, though he did write the books on which “Have Gun, Will Travel” and “Bonanza” were based. He got the name because he wrote his first drafts directly on a linotype machine. For those of you who have never even seen a typewriter, a linotype consists of a keyboard backed by a sizable mass of clunking, thunking machinery, including a tray full of type molds – individual letters, cast in steel – and a pot of melted lead. As you type, the machine slaps the type molds into a line of text, injects molten lead to lock the line together, and drops the finished line into a page form. When you’ve finished a page, the form goes straight to the printing press. So the only way for Hot Lead to revise his first draft involved a blowtorch. That’s writing without a net.
The only time to ever pay attention to your process is when it breaks down – when it gets in the way of a satisfying finished draft. I’ve seen this happen with clients, regardless of what writing process they used. One writer was so obsessed with defining his characters – he had developed complex character schematics, with different symbols for different types of emotional development – that he didn’t give them a chance to breathe. I’ve had one or two clients who started with a clear scene or character in mind, then followed them right into the woods where, after 200 pages or so, the story got lost altogether.
So if your process isn’t letting you complete a book that works, then you might want to consider a new approach. It’s true that there is no right way to write, but you want a process that works for you. I’d recommend against drastic changes, since you still need to write in a way you find comfortable.
But if you can’t figure out how your book ends, or if you have a story that feels more like a collection of short unconnected vignettes than a coherent plot, then you might want to impose a little discipline. Choose the character who intrigues you the most — writers usually lose track of their stories because they’re distracted by too many lovable characters. Then focus on the conflict in his or her life and weed away the rest. An outline, even a rough one, is a good weeding tool.
If your characters aren’t coming to life despite the spreadsheets of their personalities you’ve created, then try simply getting to know them better. Sit down and write a scene from their point of view with no advance planning. Just think of Hot Lead, sit down, and do it. It could be a scene from your novel, it could be a scene from a key moment in their background, it could just be a scene from their everyday lives. The point is to get to know your characters as people rather than schematics.
Most of the problems I see as an editor have nothing to do with the writing process – problems with the process are fairly rare. So as long as your process leads you to a story you like and characters you know and love, then don’t worry. You’re doing it right.
I’d ask you to describe your process, but I just finished telling you not to worry about it. So what’s the strangest writing process you’ve ever encountered? To get you started, Anthony Trollope reportedly wrote 2500 words a day, rain or shine. I’m told a careful reader can sometimes spot places where he padded out to his day’s tally. Victor Hugo wrote in the nude and had a servant take his clothes so he couldn’t leave the house.
Dave King has been editing for nearly 40 years now. He is co-author of Self-Editing for Fiction Writers, a former contributing editor to Writer’s Digest, and has contributed more than 100 articles over the last 12 years to Writer Unboxed. He lives on 25 acres in rural Massachusetts with his business partner and wife, Ruth Julian, who also edits his work. His other day job, at least on Sundays, is as the organist at a Lutheran church in Greenfield, Mass.
The more we trust our gut, the quieter the inner critic.
I participated in a yoga writing course a few years back. The instructor threw out six words. We needed to select one then let it simmer in our body while we hung out in Warrior Pose. After about ten minutes he told us to sit down and write.
Out of those two pages I developed an entire manuscript. No plotting. No preconceived notions. Pure gut instinct. It was one of the easiest stories I ever wrote. Gosh, maybe it’s time to revisit that exercise. Thanks for kicking away my dust bunnies, Dave.
I like the idea of yoga writing, Jocosa. It sounds like a fun experiment.
I got to participate in a Skype talk with prolific poet Diane Glancy recently, and loved hearing about her process. Glancy honed her craft as a single mother with a job teaching poetry to students at schools flung far and wide across the U.S. prairies. She would spend the school year criss-crossing the winter prairies in her car, driving hundreds of miles between schools and home. While on the road, she wrote her poetry and her class plans. To this day, although she could probably do quite a bit of writing in the safety of her office or home, she still considers getting on the road an essential part of her process. She considers place, for one thing, to be the touchstone of character craft. Writing about Sacajawea, she considers it as important as historical research, if not moreso, to go to the places that Sacajawea camped with Lewis and Clark’s expedition, simply to experience the place with her own senses and listen for Sacajawea’s voice. For another thing, there is So she will drive to Sacajawea’s campsites. There’s simply something about being on the road that gets her juices going. She writes a lot about the cross-ethnic experience, bridging two cultures, so I expect that the act of traveling allows her to better express her ideas about those bridges!
Donna, I love this. Though I’m less sure it would work here in New England. Our roads thread through the hills, often following old Indian trails, which originally followed game trails. When your roads have essentially been laid out by deer, driving demands too much attention.
My writing process changes somewhat with every story, Dave. Not sure if that’s good or bad but it serves me well most times so I trust it. But you mention a somewhat mechanical approach to writing with spreadsheets and lists of character traits that surprises me. I guess that works for some writers, but I don’t understand that approach at all. For me, characters are people (real people in my mind). I treat them as if I’m just meeting them. When we meet someone new, we don’t start listing their traits to get to know them , do we? Engaging in a natural relationship to discover my characters usually works, letting them speak and act as real people in my world. Did Victor Hugo really write in the nude? That’s a very amusing image!
Hey, Paula,
I’ve never encountered someone who tailors his or her process to the story at hand, but I’m not surprised. Process is as individual as writers are.
And, like you, a lot of writers can’t imagine using someone else’s process. But as I say, J. K. Rowling did some pretty impressive outlining. https://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2326630/Notes-diagrams-famous-authors-including-J-K-Rowling-Sylvia-Plath-planned-novels.html
One place I respectfully disagree, though. “Amusing” isn’t the first word that the image of a nude Victor Hugo brings to mind.
Like Paula said, I didn’t know Hugo wrote in the nude. Frankly, I would find it distracting. I’d be worrying someone would come in and see me. But, to each her/his own. This was one of the most interesting posts I’ve ever read because almost all the advice I’ve seen contains very detailed suggestions about what we should do, lengthy points of what works best etc… I’m more of a “pantser” and I agree with you on this. Basically, if whatever we’re doing works for us to start and finish and book, then that should be the way to go, right?
Absolutely.
I’ve heard that Margaret Mitchell wrote her last chapter first and then the other chapters in any sort of order. (May be apocryphal, however.) Dickens is famous for writing to the reaction of his magazine fans, pursuing characters and story lines they loved and occasionally letting other characters mysteriously drop off his fictional earth because he had forgotten about them. I thought about my own story for 6 years, made an extensive outline, and then never looked at it again. So you’re right, there’s no one-size-fits-all.
I’d never heard that about Mitchell and Dickens. Though I understand Sir Walter Scott had to refrain from killing off a character because he was too popular with his fans.
I would imagine that writing serial novels and watching your readers’ reaction as you go, would have an effect on the process.
To be honest, Dave, the numbers game has always been ‘strange’ to me. I have to accept that sometimes the words flow and I write lots. Sometimes I spend my writing time thinking, staring out the window. The idea of reaching a specific number of words per session seems crazy to me. I don’t believe my writing would benefit from such coercion, such force. I can’t work under those conditions!
Funny, but I think my process is to have no process but my own stubborn will and determination. Thanks for making me realize this might not be a bad thing. :)
Denise Willson
Author of A Keeper’s Truth
I am a pantser, but I have read several excellent craft books recently on outlining and structure that have caused me to reconsider whether my approach is really working for me. I have been getting stuck lately in the middle of a scene and I can’t help but conclude that I am not doing enough pre-planning. Thanks for a thoughtful post.
Hey, CG,
Getting stuck mid-scene is a sign that your process might not be working for you. It sounds like trying something new would be a good idea.
Good luck.
Reading the comments here, I’ve realized something. Worrying about process (or lack of one, Denise) is more common than we realize.
The fact is, writing is hard, especially when you’re first starting out and your efforts are as bad as they will ever be. I suspect that it’s an easy and comforting distraction to focus on your process rather than on your craft. If you can just get the right software or use the right technique, you’ll become a writer.
Learning about the tools of the craft — how to use point of view or set up effective plot twists, for instance — is another easy distraction for the beginner. Of course, it helps to learn these things, but if you’re memorizing the differences between 34 subtle shades of viewpoint rather than writing, then it’s not helping.
Often the answer is both simpler and harder — you have to write badly for a while in the process of learning to write well. And you can only start writing better by focusing on your characters and story. All the rest is distraction.
Hmmmm. There may be another article in this.
“Learning about the tools of the craft — how to use point of view or set up effective plot twists, for instance — is another easy distraction for the beginner.”
This has been my conclusion, Dave, and I trap I’ve fallen into because I’ve always enjoyed learning, it was necessary in medicine to do so before applying it to the patient, and frankly, it’s my comfort zone. But when it interferes with the actual writing, I’ve learned to dial it back.
I suspect that learning writing is more like learning music. There are scales and “Easy Exercises for Both Hands,” of course. But mostly you learn fingering or legato/staccato and such by applying them to real pieces of music. It’s not “learn first, then create.” It’s “learn by creating.”
This is such a great post; I love hearing about other writers’ processes. I consider myself a plotter…. that said, I write copious outlines and then almost never look at them again. It’s all about the thought process for me. Once the story is in my mind it’s full steam ahead. That said, as with a previous commenter, I do change story to story and this WIP I surprised myself by starting to write with no outline at all.
As I say, Julia, I’d never encountered someone who changed process. But apparently it happens quite a bit.
I wonder if this is a sign that your process is evolving as you grow as a writer? You trust your story instincts enough that you don’t have to rely on outlines any more?
If so, this is another good reason to never worry about your process. If you lock yourself into the “right” process, you can never evolve into a better writer.
I get an idea about a character, which I can see in my mind. I sit down and write the scenes I’m envisioning. The story comes to me, pages at a time. I think further and more of it comes to me. So I sit again, and write more scenes.
When I’m done writing I edit. Over and again until the work is the cleanest I can get it, the most spare and most evocative. Each word worked and weighed.
This is my process.
I’m one of those newbie fiction writers ( have been a reporter and otherwise non-fiction writer) who started worrying about process. I think my desire was to test lots of methods in case I was missing “the one.” Finally, I’ve decided that I like what I am doing, and it’s working right now, so I’m going to leave the search alone.
Trollope and Hugo are great examples. Did Trollope actually count the words without “word count”? I don’t have a process and am less prolific than I wish to be. I just let my subconscious take over on the page. But I’m not writing novels. I write mostly flash fiction and some short stories that are amalgams of related flashes. Outlines really woudn’t be helpful. It’s just one thing after another.
Trollope never actually said how he counted his words. But he did write steady — 250 words every fifteen minutes. He must have been using pen and paper, so maybe he went by how many notebook pages he filled.
And, by the way, note the advice to read everything you write aloud.
https://grammar.about.com/od/advicefromthepros/a/How-To-Write-3-000-Words-Before-Breakfast-Every-Day.htm
“The only time to ever pay attention to your process is when it breaks down–”
I think that’s about the best line ever :)
I admire Ray Bradbury and Stephen King, who both said to just write and let the story create itself. The belief that the story is there waiting to be discovered is intriguing to me. Like there’s a mystical component and the more we try to control it the more it slips away.
That said, I usually have a good idea of where my stories will end up, and I jot down a very rough outline in the beginning that I refer to sometimes to get back on track. Whatever works, right?
I’m a new reader at WU and you’re Dave King! Thank you for writing Self Editing with Renni Brown. It’s something I return to again and again!
The French must be obsessed. I heard the same story about Colette — her husband took away her clothes and she’d write in the nude.
As for me, I like taking a walk with my dog … it’s a time for prayer and pondering. Then a shower, then to my desk to write. Or sometimes I’ll scribble in bed.
“I’m a new reader at WU and you’re Dave King!”
Writer Unboxed. It’s where the elite meet.
It’s not just the French. I understand Hemingway also wrote in the buff. Though in his case, it might have just been self admiration.
Strange writing behaviour? Yes, I’ve participated in that.
Waking up at 5 a.m. because my muse called.
Burying myself in 60’s tunes and emerging with a novella.
Communing with Elizabeth Barrett Browning and, thanks to her help, writing a poem in less than a half hour–and I’m not a poet.
I will dance when my muse says dance. And go where inspiration leads me.
I think the only thing strange about my process is that my long short stories seem to like to turn into books. It’s happened twice so far where two 10,000 word projects have, within months, become novels, whereas the one novel I actually planned on writing has turned into a 200,000 word mega-monster that’s longer than my first two books combined. Hmm, perhaps I could benefit from a bit more advance planning…
This is great timing for me to read this, thanks. I’ve been writing three mss simultaneously and trying to follow the flow of the energy for each project instead of the look of the manuscript, since the ideas are backing up on me and I need to learn to work more quickly to keep up. It takes some trust in my instinct of how to work, which has been a challenge, but even though the stories are so far full of holes, I somehow know it’s the right way to approach these books and that once the stories are on paper it will be much easier and faster and produce a better book to come back and fill everything in to create a rich story, rather than working so slowly that I lose the thread. First book I outlined quite a bit, second I outlined a fair amount, but I’m tending toward loose outlines to guide me these days, and I’m delighted to discover that the process can change a bit with each book, to serve the book, not the process.
Exactly, Laura. And this is another good example of the process evolving with the writer.
Richard Sapir and Warren Murphy, who co-wrote “The Destroyer” series of books, reportedly had a system where one would write the first 150 pages and stop at the end of the page–in the middle of a sentence, wherever the end of the page came. Then he would send the document to his partner, without any notes or instructions. The other would pick up where the first left off and write the rest of the book.
Now that’s interesting.
Which leads me to wonder, how did Ellery Queen (who was actually the writing team of Frederic Dannay and Manfred Lee) manage it? A quick search of Wikipedia shows that they never talked about the writing process.
Love this post, Dave. You’re right, there is no right or wrong process, just the one that works for you.
That said, writing on a linotype machine is NUTS! Then again, maybe that’s why the old days are full of mythic writers, whereas in our own times we sometimes hibernate inside the cave of never-ending “process”.
I couldn’t agree more about Hot Lead. The idea of writing one, and only one, draft is unimaginable to an editor like me. But from what I’ve been gleaning from the comments, the range of processes is even larger than I thought.
I was lucky to have spent two years working on a novel with John Grisham. After majoring in accounting and going to law school, its not surprising that he has an organized mind. So he put me through an agonizing year of his outline writing process, chucking them back at me until I’d done seven. Then he gave me the green light. Though his process guarantees a perfect plot I found it was for me a force-fit. The novel’s being published nevertheless and while I’m proud of it, I’m back to free-writing, not thrillers but novels based on advertising where I can let the characters and the crazy situations run the show. As Barbara O’Neal said, “Writers write. They write and write and write and write, until they write themselves into their own understanding of who they are and what they bring to the page.”