Plan the Story, Meet Your Characters.

I used to believe that my best writing happened while under pressure and without a plan. Pick a prompt, jump on a first line, go.That strategy still works for small projects, but when I approach a longer, more complex story – like a novel – I find some planning helps.

During the last several months, before I kicked off with the first paragraph of a novel I wanted to write, I tampered with outlines and notecards and concept maps, trying to wrap my head around the heart of a story (this particular novel requires research and a definite sense of direction). I also spent time with my characters.

In the past, I would begin a story with a fuzzy vision of a main character, his or her name, a hint at what they wanted. But this time around, I dug deeper. I gathered a pool of resources for character development and probed into the lives of a few people the novel would spotlight.

If you peruse Twitter or Facebook or your favorite author’s blog, you’ll find plenty of character worksheets. The questions on the worksheets vary, but they all read like an application. I’ll print off these sheets from time to time, especially when they come from an author whose work I appreciate, but no one sheet or exercise works well for me. Maybe they’re too rigid for this panster at heart. So, instead of relying on one specific form of character development, I pulled ideas from a few different places and gave myself a variety of prompts from which to draw.

1. The Character Sketch

From the presses of Writer’s Digest comes a great publication, Write Your Novel in 30 Days, complete with worksheets like the ones mentioned above. This simple form (one of many within the workbook) guides you through the basics, like name and birth date and physical descriptions. It also prompts you to consider character role and internal or external conflicts.

2. Characterization Exercises

Cathy Day (author of The Comeback Season and the blog, The Big Thing) spoke on a panel at the AWP Conference in Chicago this year. I couldn’t make it into the conference (though I got close), but I did find access to a document, compiled by Day and her group of panelists, on the best practices for teaching a novel workshop. I’d love to take one of these classes, but since I can’t, I’m especially grateful for the few writing exercises listed within:

  • Describe each of your primary characters in the novel…their psychology: likes/dislikes, hopes and fears, odd predilections, good and bad habits…friends and nemeses.”
  • Let’s hear them. Write representative speeches…for each of the primary characters.”

3. Character Visualization

From the files of Glimmer Train, Yelizaveta P. Renfro’s article about “Creating the Fictional Family” focuses on several directions writers can take, questions to ask or exercises in visualization:

  • Visit your characters at home. Family often have specific places that are important to them…. Spend some time mentally visiting the places that are important to your characters, and write down everything you can.”
  • Picture your characters. Having a physcial picture of your characters can help you get to know them. Find a photo or a painting of your fictional family. . . . Once you have your picture, put it at your side and write everything you observe in the image.”

Renfro suggests stopping into an antique store for pictures of real people. I’m suggesting another idea: the Library of Congress Prints & Photographs Online Catalog, where you can search for and find thousands of images. Little treasures, like this one:

Photos that make you want to tell a story.

Do you plan? And, how do you get to know your characters?

* photo credit: Alvimann @ morgueFile.com

Writing. It’s serious business.

There’s nothing like a good, long meet-up with a writing friend to get the creative juices flowing. Yesterday, I drove the ninety miles headed west to sit with Victoria Flynn for several hours and talk shop. We worked up some big plans, exchanged story ideas; I drove home with thoughts for a new post.

Everybody wants to be a writer. Or, at least, plenty of people say they want to be a writer. But, the craft doesn’t come easy. And, rest assured, it is a learned craft. I will never forget a quote I read by Margaret Atwood in her book, Negotiating with the Dead:

A lot of people do have a book in them – that is, they have had an experience that other people might want to read about. But this is not the same as “being a writer.” Or, to put it in a more sinister way: everyone can dig a hole in a cemetery, but not everyone is a grave-digger.

Yesterday, Victoria and I poured over notebooks and clicked on a laptop or flipped through the iPad, taking notes and pulling up information from books on the craft and working out the structure of workshops and novels. We’re not taking this writing business lightly. And, neither should you.

1. You, the writer.

If you’re new to serious writing, or if you’re getting back into the craft after a long hiatus, a few questions from Melissa Donovan’s new book, 101 Creative Writing Exercises, may help guide your vision and point you in the right direction:

1. What do you write or what do you want to write? Think about form (fiction, poetry, memoir, etc.) and genre…. Be specific.

2. What are your top three goals as a writer?

3. In the past year, what have you accomplished in working toward your goals?

As Donovan says, “For those who intend to succeed, to finish that novel, get that poem published, or earn a living wage as a freelance writer, staying focused is imperative.” This is true for me. My big goals are solid, clear, but I consider questions like these when approaching smaller projects as well. If I’m struggling with a story or a chapter in a novel (or a blog post), I ask myself what I aim to do? What am I trying to say? What’s the big picture? Once I find that focus, I move forward.

2. Your Characters.

Say you have the story, but the characters – or atleast some of them – are still fuzzy. What’s a writer to do? There are plenty of character development worksheets out there, but those structured forms don’t always work for someone like me. Surprisingly. In real life, I need plans, lists, a timeline. In creative writing, not so much. So, when well-thought-out forms fail, I can always turn to an exercise that Roz Morris and Joanna Penn discuss in their Webinar series, “How to Write a Novel“: discovery writing. This type of free writing brings your characters into a better light, uncovers the mystery of their world and their thinking, reveals if that character would stand out as a strong antagonist or end up playing the part of a catalyst. Doing this type of exercise early on in the writing process, as Morris says, gives you “plenty of opportunities to use your creative urges . . . . to make the book better, instead of getting lost” in the middle.

3. Hidden Prompts.

When you decide you must write, have to, can’t stand it a minute longer, suffer from that “Dadgummit-why-have-I-waited-so-long” drive, where do you start? There are so many books and websites that offer daily writing prompts (stop by Patricia McNair’s website for starters), but there are also writing prompts everywhere around you.

  • Find a seat at a restaurant. We overhear conversations all day every day. Practice in the exercise of listening, pick out a snippet of conversation nearby, grab your pen. Go with it and write a whole new story for the couple two tables over.
  • Read the paper, and not just today’s paper. I’ve mentioned the fun of flipping through old microfiche before, how they are hidden treasures for character names and how they are just plain fun. But I’ve also discovered that snippets of those old stories become great prompts for flash fiction. Here’s one example from a paper dated 1889:

Mr. Cates returned from Iowa convinced by personal experience that Iowa prohibition does not prohibit.

Mr. Cates has a tale untold. Will you write it?

Wednesday’s Word: Once I clicked, I committed.

I’ve got a long list of excuses as to why today was not a good day for writing a new piece of flash fiction (in fact, if this post gets out by midnight tonight, I’ll be lucky). The problem is, I clicked over to Wordsmith.org this morning and read the word of the day and, therefore, committed myself to write something – an essay or a poem or a very short short – based on today’s word:

phycology: noun. The branch of botany dealing with algae. Also known as algology.

Algae. Green, slimy, stinky snood. Wordsmith never makes it easy, but then who said writing was easy?

(Past pieces from Wednesday’s Word exercises can be found by mousing over to the sidebar on the right and clicking on the Wednesday’s Word category.)

*****

Solitude

Joanne’s canoe glided towards the far side of the lake and carried her into a space void of campers, unreachable by motor boat, and reminiscent of times when the electricity went out at home; the air surrounded her with a heavy quiet.

Relief, she thought.

Sometimes she tired of the constant buzzing or humming caused by electric or other what not noises that smothered her at home and at work, sounds that were noticed more so when they ceased. She thought a weekend retreat to her cabin would offer solace, but the Wisnewskis were up this weekend, too. They were a raucous bunch, even at breakfast, which is why Joanne pushed off in her canoe shortly after her second cup of coffee.

from misserion via www.flickr.com/creativecommons

She relaxed her shoulders and relished her space and didn’t think twice about floating into a blanket of algae. The canoe cut through it like a wedge, splitting the muck and setting off spirals of green around her. She scooped up a handful of slime and rubbed her fingers together, searching for the substance. The algae held together only in mass.

Figures, she thought, just like the Wisnewskis. They thrive in clumps and encroach on the lake just the same.

Joanne breathed a sigh of disgust and, at the same time, lurched forward; the canoe had slowed, almost stopped. She brushed the tip of a sunken log, and as it scraped against the underside of the canoe, it pierced the quiet with a sound that frightened a kingfisher out of the trees just feet in front of her. She about had a heart attack because of that damn bird, and now, with her hands clenched to the sides of the canoe, she watched her paddle bounce and slip right off into the water. Into the muck. Away from her canoe.

Now, she certainly was alone, and the algae was closing in behind her.