The Scenario.
I usually write in the evenings after I get home from work and have had dinner. When I started Rogue 2, these sessions went pretty well but over the past two months, some evenings have been a real struggle. I blamed a combination of factors for this slowdown: fatigue from a day staring at a computer screen; the infamous after dinner slump; and the unexpected heat wave in June. However further analysis revealed another culprit, thankfully something that I have more control over.
When I started R2, I had a story outline with some well-ordered notes and ideas in Scrivener. Even after a long day, it was easy to hold that much information in my brain. However, now I have over forty thousand words written and have accumulated a multitude of additional notes. I have plots and subplots, character profiles and arcs, location descriptions, and lots of ‘what if’ ideas that allow for interesting variations in the storyline. Unfortunately, all this information is not in one place! There are numerous folders and notes in Scrivener, several notebooks, lots of emails I sent to myself when inspiration struck, voice recordings on my phone, and a bunch of yellow sticky notes on my desk at home. Yikes!
When I sit down to write, I am aware that all these notes exist and somehow expect my tired brain to load them all into memory, just like a supercomputer. It tries but quickly becomes full, squeezes in a little more and then holds its breath. Of course, when I start to write and look for help, Brain exhales and releases everything at once. It’s not pretty.
In some ways, I don’t blame poor old Brain. It’s still trying to clear out all the processing from the day and has been told for years that the evenings are for leisure time, for pursuing activities that can be done on automatic pilot. By 7:30, Brain Team 1 is officially off duty, and the controls are handed over to Brain Team 2 for the night shift. In fairness, Team 2 are a good bunch, they just lack experience. More seasoned writers are able to multitask and manage an entire storyline in their head all at once.
The Solution
Thankfully, the solution was simple: Work on one small piece at a time. This may sound oh so obvious, but how small is a small piece?
I was already familiar with the concept of breaking any large task into smaller chunks from my day job. To some extent, this process happens naturally for writers as books are divided into acts, chapters and scenes. However, sometimes an entire scene can be too big tackle comfortably.
If, like me, you visualise scenes as you write, then you may have experienced something like this : I know what will happen in the scene, from start to finish; I start to write, but my brain runs the video much faster than I can type; I tense up and type quicker, flying through the events, afraid that I will lose the images or forget some juicy bits. The resulting text lacks detail and depth and reads more like a witness statement than a thriller novel.
My new approach is as follows :
- I write a bullet point summary of the events in the scene
- I take the first item from the list and sit with it, visualising it
- If it starts to run away from me, and I feel tension creeping into my body as I try to hold onto it, then I know I need to break that item into smaller chunks
- I write the ‘scene chunk’ without any pressure
Example of a scene broken into chunks:
- Dr Walters left her apartment, walked down the stairs into the dark street and got into her car
- She felt a gun press against her neck from the back seat and had a short conversation with Blake Carson
- She drove to the morgue, running through the options in her head
- They left the car and entered the morgue
- Dr Walters turned off the alarm using the special panic code; she tried to delay Carson until the police arrived
The key here is to have a small enough chunk that I think to myself, ‘yeah, I can write that bit, no problem, easy peasy’. Then I am relaxed, totally in the moment of the scene, and able to spend all the time in the world writing it. No pressure. If I start writing a chunk and it feels too long, I stop and break off a piece that feels just the right size.
Pizza Analogy
Think of a book like a very large pizza. You wouldn’t stuff the whole pizza into your mouth at once, and then start chewing it, munching away for ages until it was all eaten. You’d cut the pizza into slices and then eat each slice one bite at a time. A bite size is different for everybody; some people take larger bites than others. Some evenings, you may be starving and take large mouthfuls, whereas other times you might nibble slowly at a slice. When writing, take a portion that feels comfortable, one that you can easily manage. If in doubt, chop it down further. It can never be too small. If you finish it quickly, then just take another piece.
It’s amazing the difference this approach has had for me. The fun has returned to my writing, the ideas flow, and sometimes the scenes unfold in surprising directions of their own. If several options present themselves, I choose one, banish the others and continue writing.
Remember, no chunk is too small.
Happy Writing!
Harry
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