Ask the Author: Mark Huntley Parsons
Answered Questions (7)
Mark Huntley Parsons
That’s a great question, with so many possible answers…
And yeah, a few spoilers, but all the spoiler-involved books are from five to fifty years old so...
My initial response is to say Bryce & Julie, from Flipped. I love them! Although I suppose they can’t be my official answer because they’re never really a couple during the period covered by the book—one is always zigging (emotionally) while the other is zagging, and they’re never on the same page until the end. And even then, the resolution is more about the potential for them to become a couple than about them becoming an actual item. But definitely, one of the greatest first-love books ever.
Then there is the pair from my all-time childhood fave: Kip & Peewee from Have Spacesuit, Will Travel. (Perhaps the original “teens save the planet” book, half a century before Hunger Games, Maze Runner, Divergent, etc. And perhaps the best of all of them.) But again, they’re not really a couple during the book (she’s too young for one thing, even if she is the smarter half of the team). But, as with Flipped, you can definitely see them being together in the future.
And not that I would ever list my own characters as “my favorites,” but I do have a special place in my heart for Zach & Kimber, and GT & Jamie (and Rocky & Rann, and J & Assi, and…).
Then there are all the iconic pairings from TV: Let’s see… Buffy & Angel… Buffy & Spike… Angel & Cordelia… Willow & Tara… Xander & Anya… (Okay, let’s pass on TV.)
But before leaving human/vampire pairings, is there any better than Tana & Gavriel in The Coldest Girl in Coldtown? Not that I can recall. Even you-know-who & what’s-his-name. (To say nothing of the best fantasy couple that never was: H&H. Damn.)
And of course there are contemporary couples from adult fiction, like the interesting-but-not-quite-believable on again/off again/on again ’ship between Lisbeth and Blomkvist of Dragon Tattoo fame. My credibility isn’t stretched by the waif-like/multi-millionaire/psychologically-damaged/mathematical genius who still needs a legal guardian at twenty-something, but by the supposedly mature, intelligent, middle-aged reporter who’s so emotionally near-sighted he can’t see what’s in front of him. Even with all that, they’re a memorable pairing. (And full disclosure—I actually liked that bastard-child of a fourth book in the trilogy. Partly for the resolution.)
Back in what is ostensibly kidlit land, the story of Liesel & Rudy in The Book Thief is maybe the saddest of them all, because—unlike in Flipped—the potential for them to become a couple is forever destroyed by the realities of living in wartime Germany. They’re both truly heroes at an age far too young to have to be heroic. And although neither of them know it until it’s too late, they’re in love from beginning. The final scene with the two of them just broke my heart.
So, to what may be my favorite actual fictional couple: Puck & Sean from The Scorpio Races. (Don’t you just love the way he calls her by her first and last name?) Everything about that book is so understated… whispered, instead of shouting in your face. But really, I think they’re my favorite literary couple simply because they actually, really, truly belong together.
So... who's YOUR favorite fictional couple???
And yeah, a few spoilers, but all the spoiler-involved books are from five to fifty years old so...
My initial response is to say Bryce & Julie, from Flipped. I love them! Although I suppose they can’t be my official answer because they’re never really a couple during the period covered by the book—one is always zigging (emotionally) while the other is zagging, and they’re never on the same page until the end. And even then, the resolution is more about the potential for them to become a couple than about them becoming an actual item. But definitely, one of the greatest first-love books ever.
Then there is the pair from my all-time childhood fave: Kip & Peewee from Have Spacesuit, Will Travel. (Perhaps the original “teens save the planet” book, half a century before Hunger Games, Maze Runner, Divergent, etc. And perhaps the best of all of them.) But again, they’re not really a couple during the book (she’s too young for one thing, even if she is the smarter half of the team). But, as with Flipped, you can definitely see them being together in the future.
And not that I would ever list my own characters as “my favorites,” but I do have a special place in my heart for Zach & Kimber, and GT & Jamie (and Rocky & Rann, and J & Assi, and…).
Then there are all the iconic pairings from TV: Let’s see… Buffy & Angel… Buffy & Spike… Angel & Cordelia… Willow & Tara… Xander & Anya… (Okay, let’s pass on TV.)
But before leaving human/vampire pairings, is there any better than Tana & Gavriel in The Coldest Girl in Coldtown? Not that I can recall. Even you-know-who & what’s-his-name. (To say nothing of the best fantasy couple that never was: H&H. Damn.)
And of course there are contemporary couples from adult fiction, like the interesting-but-not-quite-believable on again/off again/on again ’ship between Lisbeth and Blomkvist of Dragon Tattoo fame. My credibility isn’t stretched by the waif-like/multi-millionaire/psychologically-damaged/mathematical genius who still needs a legal guardian at twenty-something, but by the supposedly mature, intelligent, middle-aged reporter who’s so emotionally near-sighted he can’t see what’s in front of him. Even with all that, they’re a memorable pairing. (And full disclosure—I actually liked that bastard-child of a fourth book in the trilogy. Partly for the resolution.)
Back in what is ostensibly kidlit land, the story of Liesel & Rudy in The Book Thief is maybe the saddest of them all, because—unlike in Flipped—the potential for them to become a couple is forever destroyed by the realities of living in wartime Germany. They’re both truly heroes at an age far too young to have to be heroic. And although neither of them know it until it’s too late, they’re in love from beginning. The final scene with the two of them just broke my heart.
So, to what may be my favorite actual fictional couple: Puck & Sean from The Scorpio Races. (Don’t you just love the way he calls her by her first and last name?) Everything about that book is so understated… whispered, instead of shouting in your face. But really, I think they’re my favorite literary couple simply because they actually, really, truly belong together.
So... who's YOUR favorite fictional couple???
Mark Huntley Parsons
For me, it’s all about catch-and-release jellyfishing…
But first, it might be easier to say what I don’t do… I don’t sit around and think about plot ideas. At least not initially. (This is subjective as hell, but I generally feel that character should drive plot, not the other way around. But in reality this is along a continuum, not an either/or choice.)
So what do I do?
If I had to describe this very fuzzy, right-brained process in a rational, left-brain fashion, I’d say that some version of the following might apply:
1. I get the desire to portray a certain vibe or feeling or emotion.
2. From that vibe comes some high-level ideas… more on the order of setting (if physical) or thematic (if philosophical) than specific plot points.
3. I chew on those and try to imagine what sort of person (or persons) might do an interesting job of exploring these themes in this setting.
4. Then I start thinking about what story elements might be an interesting way for this character to experience the emotions and conflicts inherent in those themes. (Not necessarily a whole book’s worth… just some interesting initial scenes to get things moving, and hopefully a possible endpoint.)
So maybe: vibe… setting… theme… character… plot.
Not that this is always (or even usually) a linear process. I might bounce from vibe to character to plot and back to vibe, and my brain might work on various aspects in parallel. The point is, it’s an organic, somewhat random process. Especially at first, where I see myself like SpongeBob, just ambling along with my jellyfish net, seeing what I might catch. We get ideas and feelings all the time, but we’re looking for the ones that seem to resonate with us on some level.
Let’s try to create an example…
Let’s say that somewhere during my day I stumble across the feeling I get when I recall the smell of my 4th grade classroom, and the flood of emotions that comes with that. And for some reason my brain says “Hey, wait a minute!” and this feeling seems to carry some weight with me. So I mull on that and try to figure out why, and what I come up with is that this memory recalls a mixture of security (maybe I liked my 4th grade teacher and felt comfortable with her), fear (maybe I moved during the summer before 4th grade and the new environment was stressful), and romantic attraction (let’s say I had a big crush on someone during 4th grade). Then I get the feeling that I want the viewpoint character to be, say, fifteen instead of nine. But I really like the vibe of the 4th grade classroom smell and what it evokes in the boy (somewhere I’ve decided the POV character is a boy). Maybe because in his current situation he DOESN’T have security or romance, just fear. Why? What’s he afraid of? And how can he address this and get (or get back) the feeling of belonging… of being unafraid... and maybe even of being in love?
As I’ve mentioned before, these sorts of “what if?” internal discussions seem to happen best for me when I’m running or driving or sweeping the garage or some other low-concentration task. Almost never when I’m sitting at the computer. So I don’t sit at the computer. Not until I have a kernel of an idea, maybe something like what I’ve described above. Then I feel like I can sit down and start writing, because I have a few guiding lights: the vibe, the character, a rough setting, and maybe the themes I want to explore. And from that, as I write, comes the specifics of the story… the plot.
So the short answer is: I go through my day, catching and examining jellyfish, and almost always releasing them unharmed. (Who knows? Maybe another writer can find them and use them.) And occasionally I’ll catch one and decide to keep it for a while, and see if we get along. And if we do, then maybe… just maybe… we have the beginnings of a story.
That's how I get inspired. What about you?
For me, it’s all about catch-and-release jellyfishing…
But first, it might be easier to say what I don’t do… I don’t sit around and think about plot ideas. At least not initially. (This is subjective as hell, but I generally feel that character should drive plot, not the other way around. But in reality this is along a continuum, not an either/or choice.)
So what do I do?
If I had to describe this very fuzzy, right-brained process in a rational, left-brain fashion, I’d say that some version of the following might apply:
1. I get the desire to portray a certain vibe or feeling or emotion.
2. From that vibe comes some high-level ideas… more on the order of setting (if physical) or thematic (if philosophical) than specific plot points.
3. I chew on those and try to imagine what sort of person (or persons) might do an interesting job of exploring these themes in this setting.
4. Then I start thinking about what story elements might be an interesting way for this character to experience the emotions and conflicts inherent in those themes. (Not necessarily a whole book’s worth… just some interesting initial scenes to get things moving, and hopefully a possible endpoint.)
So maybe: vibe… setting… theme… character… plot.
Not that this is always (or even usually) a linear process. I might bounce from vibe to character to plot and back to vibe, and my brain might work on various aspects in parallel. The point is, it’s an organic, somewhat random process. Especially at first, where I see myself like SpongeBob, just ambling along with my jellyfish net, seeing what I might catch. We get ideas and feelings all the time, but we’re looking for the ones that seem to resonate with us on some level.
Let’s try to create an example…
Let’s say that somewhere during my day I stumble across the feeling I get when I recall the smell of my 4th grade classroom, and the flood of emotions that comes with that. And for some reason my brain says “Hey, wait a minute!” and this feeling seems to carry some weight with me. So I mull on that and try to figure out why, and what I come up with is that this memory recalls a mixture of security (maybe I liked my 4th grade teacher and felt comfortable with her), fear (maybe I moved during the summer before 4th grade and the new environment was stressful), and romantic attraction (let’s say I had a big crush on someone during 4th grade). Then I get the feeling that I want the viewpoint character to be, say, fifteen instead of nine. But I really like the vibe of the 4th grade classroom smell and what it evokes in the boy (somewhere I’ve decided the POV character is a boy). Maybe because in his current situation he DOESN’T have security or romance, just fear. Why? What’s he afraid of? And how can he address this and get (or get back) the feeling of belonging… of being unafraid... and maybe even of being in love?
As I’ve mentioned before, these sorts of “what if?” internal discussions seem to happen best for me when I’m running or driving or sweeping the garage or some other low-concentration task. Almost never when I’m sitting at the computer. So I don’t sit at the computer. Not until I have a kernel of an idea, maybe something like what I’ve described above. Then I feel like I can sit down and start writing, because I have a few guiding lights: the vibe, the character, a rough setting, and maybe the themes I want to explore. And from that, as I write, comes the specifics of the story… the plot.
So the short answer is: I go through my day, catching and examining jellyfish, and almost always releasing them unharmed. (Who knows? Maybe another writer can find them and use them.) And occasionally I’ll catch one and decide to keep it for a while, and see if we get along. And if we do, then maybe… just maybe… we have the beginnings of a story.
That's how I get inspired. What about you?
Mark Huntley Parsons
I was on a run. (Okay, full disclosure: I was in the gym on an elliptical machine, recovering from a running injury. Same thing, right?) And as usual I was randomly daydreaming with my antenna up in case any stray ideas might be floating by.
And I DIDN’T get an idea for a plot or a character or even just a basic setting. I got a feeling. A vibe. That’s all. Very undefined. But it really took hold of me. It’s hard to put into words. (At least it’s hard to put into just a few words – it took me almost 100,000 of them to get the feeling out of my head and onto the page.) Basically, the vibe was the mood evoked by seeing the perfect, bright, primary color yellow.
(I know. Sounds like the kind of school assignment you might get in an anxiety dream: “Write an essay on the feeling you get when seeing the perfect color yellow. Three hundred and fifty pages. Counts for 50% of your semester grade. Due on Tuesday.”)
So I started writing with not much more than that vibe in mind. Which is a little unusual for me – I like to have at least some idea as to where I’m going. But I was really intrigued by the idea so I dove in and my brain started riffing on the parallel concepts of perfection… and loss… and recovery… and art… and love. And then came weaving those themes into an actual, coherent story of real (or at least realistic) teenagers, trying to get through the shitstorm we call life.
So that’s where the idea for the novel I just finished came from.
Keep your antenna up.
I was on a run. (Okay, full disclosure: I was in the gym on an elliptical machine, recovering from a running injury. Same thing, right?) And as usual I was randomly daydreaming with my antenna up in case any stray ideas might be floating by.
And I DIDN’T get an idea for a plot or a character or even just a basic setting. I got a feeling. A vibe. That’s all. Very undefined. But it really took hold of me. It’s hard to put into words. (At least it’s hard to put into just a few words – it took me almost 100,000 of them to get the feeling out of my head and onto the page.) Basically, the vibe was the mood evoked by seeing the perfect, bright, primary color yellow.
(I know. Sounds like the kind of school assignment you might get in an anxiety dream: “Write an essay on the feeling you get when seeing the perfect color yellow. Three hundred and fifty pages. Counts for 50% of your semester grade. Due on Tuesday.”)
So I started writing with not much more than that vibe in mind. Which is a little unusual for me – I like to have at least some idea as to where I’m going. But I was really intrigued by the idea so I dove in and my brain started riffing on the parallel concepts of perfection… and loss… and recovery… and art… and love. And then came weaving those themes into an actual, coherent story of real (or at least realistic) teenagers, trying to get through the shitstorm we call life.
So that’s where the idea for the novel I just finished came from.
Keep your antenna up.
Mark Huntley Parsons
There are whole books about this subject, but I’m going to stick to three overarching concepts:
1. Listen to yourself.
This really means trust yourself. It also means don’t be swayed by what’s popular or acclaimed or best-selling. It means write about something that moves you, that matters to you, and maybe even scares you. “Write what you know” isn’t bad advice, but “write what you care about” may be even better. If you have no passion for the subject, how can you expect the reader to have passion for the book? The art of writing is really about the ability to use language to take an idea from your head and place it into another’s, so they feel what you feel. And if you have no real feeling for the subject, then neither will they.
So explore. Let your mind wander. Daydream. Don’t stop with the first idea. Or the fifth. Ideas are plentiful. Ideas that stick with you for a while are more rare. But ideas that grab hold and won’t let go for days or weeks or months are the stuff of which compelling stories are made. So when that little voice in your head starts talking, pay attention.
2. Listen to your characters.
Readers will accept a world with aliens and spaceships. A world where girls fly on dragons. A world where the Allies lost WW-II and the Nazis run Europe. What they won’t accept is when a character does something against their basic nature. Your characters can be many things—as wild and bizarre as you like—but for your reader to buy into them (and your story) they need to be SELF-consistent. Nothing throws me out of a story quicker than a character who has been really bright throughout the whole book, but near the end the author has her do something really dumb just to make the plot “work”. If your plot requires your character to do something seriously out-of-character, maybe you need to work on your plot.
I’ve sat down to write and had characters refuse to do what my plot required of them. Seriously. Instead they went out on their own and attempted something completely different. But when this happens, instead of forcing the issue I listen to them and go with what they’re trying to do. Will it work out? Maybe, maybe not. But there’s a reason they went against my pre-conceived ideas, and I owe it to them to listen. (Okay, I’m not insane. I realize they’re fictional constructs. But on some level, my subconscious knows them and knows it would be out-of-character for them to do what I’m trying to force them to do. When that happens…listen!)
3. Listen to others. Sometimes.
Listening to yourself means trusting yourself regarding story and character and plot, and having confidence in your ability to make your ideas translate the page. It doesn’t mean holding a blind belief that you’re always right. Others – who’re a bit more removed from the story – can give us valuable feedback that we might be a little too close to otherwise see.
Using beta readers can be beneficial, especially if they’re familiar with the genre you’re working in. They don’t necessarily need to be writers themselves. (Writers can be good in this role, but only if they’re helping you write YOUR story as best you can, as opposed to telling you how THEY would write it.) The best thing a beta can do is point out parts where they were unclear as to what was happening within the story (because that’s the writer’s biggest blind spot: due to our long and intimate exposure to the story, we don’t always know what’s NOT on the page). If someone doesn’t like – or doesn’t get – certain parts of the story, they may or may not have a valid point… it’s up to you to decide if they’re right. But if multiple readers have problems with the same part of the story, you probably have an issue. Get your ego out of the way and take a critical look at it.
As writers, sometimes our initial response to constructive feedback might be defensiveness and/or denial. Maybe we feel like our writing is under attack, or maybe the work to make the required corrections seems daunting. In either case it can help to leave it be for a while and take a fresh look at it later, when we’re less emotionally involved. After a break, frequently we realize that (a) the beta readers were correct after all, (b) the work to change the story isn’t as all-consuming as it originally seemed, and (c) after the revisions are complete, the story is stronger and we’re really glad we made the changes.
All of the above goes double when working with an editor. A good editor is an expert at figuring out what’s working and what’s not with your story (and as important, why), and their interests are the same as yours – to make your story as strong as it can be. You don’t have to take all their suggestions, but you should think long and hard before ignoring major advice. (If you’re the type of writer who thinks your work is precious and you can’t imagine taking anyone else’s input on it, you might remain unpublished for longer than you like.)
BUT… it’s your name on the book - not your editor’s, not your agent’s, and not your beta’s. The final decision is up to you, and this is where your artistic judgement comes in. Different people have different taste, and you can go crazy constantly revising your story every time someone has a comment. In the end no one cares more about your story than you, and by the time you reach the revision stage you should have a pretty solid vision as to what the story is about.
When in doubt, the person to have a heart-to-heart with is yourself.
There are whole books about this subject, but I’m going to stick to three overarching concepts:
1. Listen to yourself.
This really means trust yourself. It also means don’t be swayed by what’s popular or acclaimed or best-selling. It means write about something that moves you, that matters to you, and maybe even scares you. “Write what you know” isn’t bad advice, but “write what you care about” may be even better. If you have no passion for the subject, how can you expect the reader to have passion for the book? The art of writing is really about the ability to use language to take an idea from your head and place it into another’s, so they feel what you feel. And if you have no real feeling for the subject, then neither will they.
So explore. Let your mind wander. Daydream. Don’t stop with the first idea. Or the fifth. Ideas are plentiful. Ideas that stick with you for a while are more rare. But ideas that grab hold and won’t let go for days or weeks or months are the stuff of which compelling stories are made. So when that little voice in your head starts talking, pay attention.
2. Listen to your characters.
Readers will accept a world with aliens and spaceships. A world where girls fly on dragons. A world where the Allies lost WW-II and the Nazis run Europe. What they won’t accept is when a character does something against their basic nature. Your characters can be many things—as wild and bizarre as you like—but for your reader to buy into them (and your story) they need to be SELF-consistent. Nothing throws me out of a story quicker than a character who has been really bright throughout the whole book, but near the end the author has her do something really dumb just to make the plot “work”. If your plot requires your character to do something seriously out-of-character, maybe you need to work on your plot.
I’ve sat down to write and had characters refuse to do what my plot required of them. Seriously. Instead they went out on their own and attempted something completely different. But when this happens, instead of forcing the issue I listen to them and go with what they’re trying to do. Will it work out? Maybe, maybe not. But there’s a reason they went against my pre-conceived ideas, and I owe it to them to listen. (Okay, I’m not insane. I realize they’re fictional constructs. But on some level, my subconscious knows them and knows it would be out-of-character for them to do what I’m trying to force them to do. When that happens…listen!)
3. Listen to others. Sometimes.
Listening to yourself means trusting yourself regarding story and character and plot, and having confidence in your ability to make your ideas translate the page. It doesn’t mean holding a blind belief that you’re always right. Others – who’re a bit more removed from the story – can give us valuable feedback that we might be a little too close to otherwise see.
Using beta readers can be beneficial, especially if they’re familiar with the genre you’re working in. They don’t necessarily need to be writers themselves. (Writers can be good in this role, but only if they’re helping you write YOUR story as best you can, as opposed to telling you how THEY would write it.) The best thing a beta can do is point out parts where they were unclear as to what was happening within the story (because that’s the writer’s biggest blind spot: due to our long and intimate exposure to the story, we don’t always know what’s NOT on the page). If someone doesn’t like – or doesn’t get – certain parts of the story, they may or may not have a valid point… it’s up to you to decide if they’re right. But if multiple readers have problems with the same part of the story, you probably have an issue. Get your ego out of the way and take a critical look at it.
As writers, sometimes our initial response to constructive feedback might be defensiveness and/or denial. Maybe we feel like our writing is under attack, or maybe the work to make the required corrections seems daunting. In either case it can help to leave it be for a while and take a fresh look at it later, when we’re less emotionally involved. After a break, frequently we realize that (a) the beta readers were correct after all, (b) the work to change the story isn’t as all-consuming as it originally seemed, and (c) after the revisions are complete, the story is stronger and we’re really glad we made the changes.
All of the above goes double when working with an editor. A good editor is an expert at figuring out what’s working and what’s not with your story (and as important, why), and their interests are the same as yours – to make your story as strong as it can be. You don’t have to take all their suggestions, but you should think long and hard before ignoring major advice. (If you’re the type of writer who thinks your work is precious and you can’t imagine taking anyone else’s input on it, you might remain unpublished for longer than you like.)
BUT… it’s your name on the book - not your editor’s, not your agent’s, and not your beta’s. The final decision is up to you, and this is where your artistic judgement comes in. Different people have different taste, and you can go crazy constantly revising your story every time someone has a comment. In the end no one cares more about your story than you, and by the time you reach the revision stage you should have a pretty solid vision as to what the story is about.
When in doubt, the person to have a heart-to-heart with is yourself.
Mark Huntley Parsons
I’ve just finished a contemporary YA novel that revolves around the concept of people judging others. Society tends to hold people (mostly women, and especially young women) up against an insane standard of physical beauty. I wanted to look at the idea that maybe perfection is over-rated. I also wanted to explore the role of art in the recovery process… how throwing ourselves into something creative might help get us through the shit that life sometimes throws at us. The book also contains a novel-within-a-novel, a skeleton bartender who knows exactly what to serve to cure your particular ailment, and the Amazing Breasts of Doom.
Plus coffee, of course. Lots of coffee.
Plus coffee, of course. Lots of coffee.
Mark Huntley Parsons
Writing is magic.
Where else can you create an entire universe to your own design? You choose the characters, the setting, the events. You can go backward in history or forward in time. Or both. You decide which themes to explore. You can wrap it all up or leave it open-ended. You can write a one-page short story or a ten-thousand-page epic series.
You can have absolute autonomy in your creation, locking yourself away with just yourself and your story until you have realized the vision that was in your mind’s eye. Or you can be collaborative, using input from other readers and editors to help you craft the strongest story possible.
Your writing can display humor, tragedy, romance, adventure, quiet introspection… Or all of the above. You can write to educate, entertain, enlighten… or to distract the reader from everyday life. You can write for a specific person, for a targeted audience, for the universe at large, or simply for yourself and the feeling you get when you commit your thoughts to print in a way that gives you a little tingle inside your mind.
Any of the above. All of the above. Maybe none of the above. Of all the art forms, writing is the most limitless. If you can envision it—and develop the craft to convey your thoughts in the written word—you can literally write anything. So the best thing about being a writer is…
Writing is magic.
Where else can you create an entire universe to your own design? You choose the characters, the setting, the events. You can go backward in history or forward in time. Or both. You decide which themes to explore. You can wrap it all up or leave it open-ended. You can write a one-page short story or a ten-thousand-page epic series.
You can have absolute autonomy in your creation, locking yourself away with just yourself and your story until you have realized the vision that was in your mind’s eye. Or you can be collaborative, using input from other readers and editors to help you craft the strongest story possible.
Your writing can display humor, tragedy, romance, adventure, quiet introspection… Or all of the above. You can write to educate, entertain, enlighten… or to distract the reader from everyday life. You can write for a specific person, for a targeted audience, for the universe at large, or simply for yourself and the feeling you get when you commit your thoughts to print in a way that gives you a little tingle inside your mind.
Any of the above. All of the above. Maybe none of the above. Of all the art forms, writing is the most limitless. If you can envision it—and develop the craft to convey your thoughts in the written word—you can literally write anything. So the best thing about being a writer is…
Writing is magic.
Mark Huntley Parsons
The short answer: I go for a nice long run.
The longer answer: For me at least, “writer’s block” is really just a term for “haven’t thought about the story quite enough yet.” I don’t typically get the long-term feeling of “I’m totally blocked and have no idea what to write,” but occasionally I’ll get stuck on a particular plot point. (I actually think this smaller level of writer’s block can be a good thing – it’s your subconscious telling you that you need to think a little more about the story before committing words to paper.)
I try not to sit down to write until I have at least a vague clue as to where I’m going, because for me, the very least productive place to come up with new ideas is sitting on my butt staring at a blank screen. I’d rather mow the lawn or wash the dishes or stand in the shower. I think the real writing happens away from the keyboard, and I also believe the subconscious does much of the heavy lifting when it comes to creativity. So if I’m stuck on a plot point, I’ll go for a run (or any other activity that takes just a minimal amount of attention). The slight attention requirement of running or walking or whatever seems to distract the conscious mind just enough to let the subconscious come out and play. Then during the run I’ll sort of mull over the scene in question, playing it in my head like a movie. Each time I play the clip I change it a little, and sooner or later an idea will pop into my mind. And if it’s a good idea, I get that “aha!” feeling. If not, I keep playing the film clip until I do. Then, once I have the inspiring little idea that gets me past the sticking point, I’m ready to sit down and write. And of course, once you have enough of an idea to start a scene, your mind generally comes up with other ideas to extend or complete the scene.
Part of the solution to what people call “writer’s block” may be as simple as writing regularly. Like most skills, if you exercise it regularly you not only get better – in terms of craft – but you also get more efficient at it. And you develop the confidence that if you start the tiny little scene you have in mind, you’ll likely come up with more.
I find it really helps to know where you’re going. I’m not a detailed outliner, but I like a few signposts along the way, and I like to have at least a rough idea as to how it might end. (A provisional ending, if you will. I might change it when I get there, but for now I just want something to drive toward.) Using a road trip as an analogy, I don’t need a detailed route mapped out, with every little meal stop and gas station and motel already decided on. But I like broad ideas, on the order of: “I’m starting on the East Coast – let’s say New York - and heading to the West Coast. I think I’ll swing down through the South instead of the Mid-West, because I prefer the warmer weather and the BBQ… maybe Atlanta, maybe Birmingham, maybe New Orleans… not sure yet. But I know I want to drive through the Southwest, then on to the coast. Final destination is either L.A. or San Francisco… I’ll know more when I get closer.” That’s pretty much all I need, and I’m ready to go. Enough to keep me moving along, but not so much that I can’t take a detour if it looks promising.
Happy writing!
The longer answer: For me at least, “writer’s block” is really just a term for “haven’t thought about the story quite enough yet.” I don’t typically get the long-term feeling of “I’m totally blocked and have no idea what to write,” but occasionally I’ll get stuck on a particular plot point. (I actually think this smaller level of writer’s block can be a good thing – it’s your subconscious telling you that you need to think a little more about the story before committing words to paper.)
I try not to sit down to write until I have at least a vague clue as to where I’m going, because for me, the very least productive place to come up with new ideas is sitting on my butt staring at a blank screen. I’d rather mow the lawn or wash the dishes or stand in the shower. I think the real writing happens away from the keyboard, and I also believe the subconscious does much of the heavy lifting when it comes to creativity. So if I’m stuck on a plot point, I’ll go for a run (or any other activity that takes just a minimal amount of attention). The slight attention requirement of running or walking or whatever seems to distract the conscious mind just enough to let the subconscious come out and play. Then during the run I’ll sort of mull over the scene in question, playing it in my head like a movie. Each time I play the clip I change it a little, and sooner or later an idea will pop into my mind. And if it’s a good idea, I get that “aha!” feeling. If not, I keep playing the film clip until I do. Then, once I have the inspiring little idea that gets me past the sticking point, I’m ready to sit down and write. And of course, once you have enough of an idea to start a scene, your mind generally comes up with other ideas to extend or complete the scene.
Part of the solution to what people call “writer’s block” may be as simple as writing regularly. Like most skills, if you exercise it regularly you not only get better – in terms of craft – but you also get more efficient at it. And you develop the confidence that if you start the tiny little scene you have in mind, you’ll likely come up with more.
I find it really helps to know where you’re going. I’m not a detailed outliner, but I like a few signposts along the way, and I like to have at least a rough idea as to how it might end. (A provisional ending, if you will. I might change it when I get there, but for now I just want something to drive toward.) Using a road trip as an analogy, I don’t need a detailed route mapped out, with every little meal stop and gas station and motel already decided on. But I like broad ideas, on the order of: “I’m starting on the East Coast – let’s say New York - and heading to the West Coast. I think I’ll swing down through the South instead of the Mid-West, because I prefer the warmer weather and the BBQ… maybe Atlanta, maybe Birmingham, maybe New Orleans… not sure yet. But I know I want to drive through the Southwest, then on to the coast. Final destination is either L.A. or San Francisco… I’ll know more when I get closer.” That’s pretty much all I need, and I’m ready to go. Enough to keep me moving along, but not so much that I can’t take a detour if it looks promising.
Happy writing!
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