First, I would like to stress that Cornith, Kansas is a black hole. A huge, sucking black hole that will eat you alive no matter how many times you think you're on the right road. Today I came the closest I've ever been to actually being lost, and that's saying something.
But the reason for my journey was worth the headache and blistering sun. I attended my first Writer's Meetup, a gathering of area writers in various stages of their own projects, who gather every other week to read and critique. This particular meeting featured guest speaker Tasha Haas, a creative writing instructor at the Lawrence Art Center. She spoke for nearly 4 hours on how to start writing your novel. I really didn't expect to learn much new information, since I'm already well into my own novel, but I couldn't let the opportunity slip by. So I surrendered my day to it.
I'm glad I went. I was the only new person in the group of 15, but everyone was extremely kind and open. We arranged the desks in a circle so that we could all see each other and just as I feared, we made a round of introductions. Each person stated their name, a bit about their project(s) and what their 'problems' were with the story. Most of the other novels-in-progress were sci-fi, fantasy, or future fics and most everyone had a good head start into the story. My mind raced with how best to describe my story, but alas, as soon as I opened my mouth, I blurt that it is a supernatural detective story and I fumbled with the rest of it. Now, I know damn well what the story is about, but explaining it in one or two sentences?? That was something I actually learned how to do today.
Our first group exercise was to list our five favorite novels. Right off the starting line, I fumble. Troubleshooter takes the first spot, followed by an embarassingly eclectic assembly of the only books I can remember reading: The Last Unicorn, The Light Fantastic, The Husband, and Wonder Boys. Two of these titles are movies, and two I've read within the past two months. I kept my mouth shut when we shared our lists.
The second exercise was to list five ideas for novels. A half-sized piece of paper had never looked so daunting as it did right then. Five ideas?? I only have one truly original idea every six months. So, I cheated:
#1: A world wherein people can see spirits (my current project)
#2: A giant alligator that lives in the sewer (my latest piece of fanfic)
#3: A serial killer clown (the piece of fanfic before that)
#4: A group of people tries to survive an attack of rabid dogs (plot from The Breed)
and #5: A man must overcome his chilhood trauma (reduced plot from 26 Days)
I sank in my chair, covered my paper, and tried to look as uninteresting as I possibly could. So of course, I get nominated to read my ideas.
I cringed and whimpered, but stuck in the spotlight, had no choice but to plunge ahead. I read as fast as I could, feeling myself turning red, and bounced my leg as I waited for the laughter to start. But after a brief pause, the facilitator of our little group said, "I really like the first idea." The others agreed, then added, "The first idea AND the last."
Stunned, I cracked a smile but said nothing as they elaborated. Ideas 2, 3, and 4 are tired and cheap. But numbers 1 and 5 have open endings. They make people think. Had there been more time, I would have been asked to further develop those ideas in front of the group. But the clock kept ticking and we were forced to move ahead.
Tasha quoted that "We do not choose our characters, they chose us." We were asked to think about what that means and share ideas. While I kept silent, I knew the quote was accurate. Leland's character- his role- my not have been my idea, but the person he is today is something he and I have discussed at great length, over the course of many months. It feels wrong to say I 'own' him, because he often times will think for himself and do things or say things that surprise me. It's made us close, made me feel like I know him inside and out, and I think that is a mandatory relationship for any character-driven story.
We were urged to set deadlines and goals. As much as I hate to, it is a good habit to form. I honestly did get more work done when I made myself write a page a day. I'll have to revisit that.
The topic of research came up, and the issue of how much is too much and also, the dangers of not doing enough. Tasha urged us to not get caught up in research. Write from the heart, while the fire is burning inside you, and go back later. Don't use research as a distraction. Think of it as creating a movie set- you only need enough to make things look real during that point in time. Research should do a service to the story, not weigh it down with un-needed details.
Then came the topic of Structure and Focus. Another group exercise. Write your story's Topic, the 'Burning Question', and the Theme (or the potential answer to the question). For example:
Topic: War between good and evil, human potential
Question: Can good triumph over bad? Does personal interest hamper one's sense of honor and duty?
Theme: Yes/But- good does triumph, but not without a price.
The theme, obviously, is withheld until the end of the story. A good novel can be compared to a sports game: we go to watch two similarly talented teams play each other, and we want to see a struggle. We want to see the close call, the overtime, the bloodshed and heated competition. I knew that the antag should be a formidable foe, but this analogy really works for me.
The rest of the workshop was quick and to the point. During a break, I talked a little with the girl next to me who had a similar interest with the concept of a secret society in the modern day world. She said her problem is that after creating scenarios, she can't plot them out, can't create a story. I think this is where character comes in. I was lucky to have found my character first, then developed his story from his essence. They compliment each other and neither is a cardboard cut out of a hero or plot. Which, at times, is the very thing that makes me want to put a gun to my head. I have no road map.
Hence the theme of this blog- a reminder that I will, one day, look back on this and laugh.
I hope.
So the whole experience was worth it. The whole getting lost, sweat dripping down my spine as cruised the busy streets of Prairie Veiw, Kansas blaring Zepplin from my speakers. I never lost that overwhelming sense of stage fright, but I left with nearly everyone's invitations to join the group again. I don't know if I will- I don't think I could handle being critiqued by a group of strangers just yet. I'm still struggling to figure out the story myself. What if my favorite scene was read, and no one liked it? What would I do? Probably burst into tears. I'm writing this story for myself, because it's something *I* want to see. And yes, it *is* a dream of mine to be published and known. Yes, I know it won't happen if I don't ever share the story. But the space between those ledges is deep and dark and I know that hundreds of razor-sharp rocks wait at the bottom. I need someone to hold my hand.
But the thing I loved most is that one of the writers, a woman, was able to discuss her story about the cross-breeding between elves and goblins and her heroine's struggle to fit in amongst them- and not a single soul laughed at her. It takes one to know one, I guess, and there is nothing quite like a room full of writers.
All this almost makes starting my novel over a little more bearable.
I can't wait until MWW.
me
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