How to Stay Hungry

Will I make it as a writer? One by one, we asked this question of a writing guru. It was before I'd sold a word, fiction or nonfiction. I got an ambiguous answer, but the one that stuck with me was, "You've got no choice." This was addressed to a fellow student who had a disabling genetic disease. Writing was probably her one shot on any happiness in this life.

Commitment. Drive. Hunger. If you want to create a body of work, fulfill your dreams as a writer, and "make it," this cannot be a casual activity. Max Adams puts it well: "Nobody ever won an Olympic medal just showing up weekends and winging it."

If you've got no choice, you'll stay hungry. I had a teacher who suggested that if I really wanted to be a writer,  I needed to get a boring, dead-end job. A day job I was desperate to quit. He may have been right. Some of my most productive periods have been when things weren't going well at the office. But there is a risk. Mind-numbing work can numb your mind. Writing for a buck can dull your taste for the good stuff. Desperation can lead to unfortunate choices. And it is possible to die, as a writer, from neglect. Hungry does not equal starving.

The right spot for you is somewhere between contentment and desperation. With that in mind, here are five suggestions for getting and staying hungry:

• Have reasons to write. Do you want recognition? Do you have something you need to say or a change you want to create? Do you want to hobnob with celebrities? Your reason to write is your business, but write it down. Keep it in front of you. And, while you're at it, write down the reasons why your current project must be completed. It won't do much for your writing career if you work on something new every day and never finish anything.
• Form the habit. They say it takes 30 days. So write every day for at least that long. If it is long enough, you'll find yourself itching to put words on paper even before you realize what that feeling is. (Warning: If you stay away from writing for 30 days, you'll have a new habit. Avoiding writing.)
• Seek out small successes. Enter a contest. Have an actor read your work. Find a market on duotrope.com Take a detour and write a flash fiction story in one sitting. You don't need to make the bestsellers list to be recognized, interpreted, or published. You don't need to finish you magnum opus before you get to write "The End."
• Be ready. Create obstacle-free opportunities for yourself. You know how distractions can make you forget to eat even when you are hungry? That happens when you are hungry to write, too. And if you put yourself in an environment full of distractions, you'll kill your appetite for telling stories.
• Don't satisfy your hunger. Resist the urge to tell people about your work in progress. Anything that gives you the rewards before you finish the work saps your energy as a writer.

When it comes to hunger, we are not created equal. Some people naturally need less than others. Some people are surrounded by love, friendship, and material goods. It may be easier for a rich aspiring writer to pass through the eye of a needle than to become published. But somehow, even those with every advantage manage to succeed. If they can do it, so can you. Treasure the gift of hunger.

Finishing the Book – Mental Blocks

Last time, I wrote about organizational problems that get in the way of finishing your writing. Mental blocks can be another major factor. In fact, it is the one I hear the most about from other offers.

Often, they are problems, such as looping and dithering, that can occur any time in the writing process, and I’ve offered tips on dealing with these throughout this blog.  Five challenges, however, seem to be the bane of those just trying to get finished, so I’ll offer suggestions on each.

Exhaustion. It is possible to get burned out on a story, or burned out on writing. The work can be all absorbing, demanding, and lonely. Or you can just become tired of the kind of writing you are doing. There are natural rhythms to scenes and segments, and you can get out of synch. And sometimes, everything becomes too familiar. You just want that voice in your head to shut up.

The first way to avoid exhaustion is to set your expectations correctly. It is much more likely that you will get tired of a work if you believe it should already be done. Books have their own lengths and gestation periods (which, admittedly, can be modified by a publishing deadline). I write out the hours (based on past experience) expect for phases of the project, and then I add 50%.

Exhaustion also tends to afflict pantsers more than plotters because they tend to write in surges. Steady pacing, with a consistent word count, can help you avoid physical and mental exhaustion. Don’t try to sprint in a marathon.

If you already are exhausted, cut down on your daily work count and do something entirely different. I switch to nonfiction, but, from what I see with other writers, music, drawing, and other creative endeavors seem to do that most to heal and revive.

No answers. Many writers feel that they’ve run out of ideas or painted themselves into a corner. It isn’t true. Your imagination has not died. Your muse has not abandoned you. As I simple test, I ask authors to provide ideas for other writers who are stuck, and they always come in a flood.

Seeing that creativity is alive and well is often enough, but, if not, ask different questions about the story. Rephrase. Zoom in (for a finer question). Zoom out (for a broader question). List ideas on paper or say them out loud. Stand up. Walk around when you look for answers.

Despair. This is usually expressed by the question, “Why did I start this stupid story in the first place?” Well, you did. And you are into it. And you are committed. And you are a professional. The finished work may be awful. So what? Finish anyway.

Leftovers. Those who hop around to write the luscious parts should not be surprised when all they are left with are those required transition scenes, the bits where clues must be planted, and blocks of narration.

First, reconsider whether these parts are definitely needed. Often the work succeeds without them. Elmore Leonard says, “Try to leave out the part that readers tend to skip.” Maybe you did that automatically.

If that feels wrong, brainstorm how they might be made more interesting. Can you include emotional content? Surprises? Can you surprise yourself?

If neither of these help, lean on your professionalism. Set a word count goal and grind it out. As one writer delicately put it, sometimes you have to defecate masonry.

Fear of failure. Though often hidden, this may be the most important reason why books don’t get finished. A finished book can be judged. And, if it is first draft, the judgment will be harsh.

But you can’t fail. A finished book, even if it is lousy, is an achievement. It moves you further down the road as an author and an artist. It builds capability. And you never have to show it to anyone. Virtually every author I know has a completed manuscript that never will see the light of day. There is nothing wrong with that. It is not a failure.

There are other problems – literary promiscuity (the urge to take up with a new manuscript), distractions, and jealousy. I’ll go into these at another time since I need to finish this blog.

NaNoWriMo Success 1 - Preparation

Since 1999, November has been National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo). Not surprisingly, I'm an enthusiast. Many of the things that are dear to my heart happen for thousands - most recently, hundreds of thousands -- of eager participants. As they strive to complete a 50,000 word novel in just 30 days writers:

• Build the habit of writing regularly - Practice makes perfect.
• Write forward - Avoiding looping, and getting words on paper. As Nora Roberts said, "You can fix anything but a blank page."
• Build confidence - Getting a book written counters all the voices that say you can't do it, including the one in your own head.
• Clarify their commitment to writing - It is possible to start this task on a whim, but difficult to grit it out without a deeper understanding of why you must write.
• Build relationships with other writers - Writing can be a lonely business. NaNoWriMo creates the perfect opportunity to connect with other writers who will acknowledge, encourage, and support you.
• Discover or rediscover the joy of writing - You may have days you struggle, but, over a thirty-day period, it is highly unlikely that you won't have crazy wonderful experiences when the words flow and something new comes to life.

The demands of NaNoWriMo are crazy for most people. Getting almost 2,000 words on paper each day is double the commitment Stephen King asks of writers in his terrific book, On Writing. Even for a professional writer, NaNoWriMo is an Ironman Triathalon. With a few weeks to go before the starting gun goes off, it's time to go into training. I'll present a few suggestions on preparation here. In future articles, I'll write about drafting practices during NaNoWriMo, and what to do when December 1 rolls around, and its over for another year.

• The heart has its reasons - Answer the question of why you write (or intend to write). Multiple answers are great. Saying "for the money" will only get me laughing.
• Place, time, goals - Where will you write? Will you be able to close the door? Can you set aside the minutes or hours you need each day to get this done? Are they marked off on your calendar? Do you have word count goals? Chapter goals? Personal goals for this event?
• Tools - Will you use any special software, like Scrivener? Will the Emotional Thesaurus be ready in your browser? Will you use an application to make the Web inaccessible? Have you set up a way to track your word count? Will you use dictation? Are you fluent with using the tools you intend to use?
• Distractions - Do family members know they need to give you the time? Are you sacrificing FaceBook for the month of November? Have you thought about what can come off your to-do list for the month?
• Rituals and prompts - Have you picked out your lucky socks? Will you chant and burn incense? Play music? Do you have maps of the city where the story will take place? Have you cut a picture of your heroine out of People Magazine?
• Buddies - Do you have a fellow writer at hand to talk with, bounce ideas off of, complain to, and share good news with during the thirty days? Do you know how to find one? Do you know what your criteria are?
• Finger exercises - Are you doing a little bit more actual writing (not planning or character studies) each day, working yourself up to the daily word count you'll need? Are you practicing brainstorming, doing research, and making observations?
• Celebrations - Do you know how you'll celebrate daily success? Do you have confetti ready for the day you write "The End"?

If you get all of these just right, you will be well prepared to take on this challenge. You'll have the process in place, means, opportunity, and motivation. Do one more thing: set your expectations.

Realize that when it gets rolling, you may need to improvise. If your buddy bails on you, resolve now that you won't give up. You'll find someone else to work with (and keep writing in the meantime). Expect that life will get in the way and you'll miss a day. Be ready to shrug it off, and get back on task. Thirty days is a long period of time. Not everything you set up will go as planned, but if you expect hiccups, you'll be better able to have NaNoWriMo success.

Success doesn't necessarily mean finishing the 50,000 words and getting the certificate. It might mean coming out of the month with more capabilities and good writing habits.

Will you participate in NaNoWriMo? Are you getting ready? 
What do you expect to get out of it?

Bigger 12 -The Confidence Factor

I have confidence in confidence alone!
Besides Which you see I have confidence
In me!

-- Richard Rodgers

This morning, I woke up with a country song, complete wiht lyrics I never knew I'd memorized, running through my head. When I write speeches, quotes from Abe Lincoln, Hunter S. Thompson, or Seneca show up at just the right time to clarify a point. I never know what useful or instructive snippet will pop up in my mind, but I've learned to pay attention.

The lyrics above, about confidence, arrived as I was reading a self-published novel. While the back of my mind was pointing out formal errors in spelling, grammar, and structure, the rest of me was lost in the story. It isn't unusual for this to happen if the plot has me hooked. I'm often sucked in when the author has taken time to build a minimal amount of empathy for the character, the need is clear, and there are a few surprises.

None of this was really happening in the work I was reading (though, I'm sure from the author's other work that all will be well eventually). What kept me turning the pages was confidence alone. Absolutely nothing about the work was tentative. I could tell he knew he deserved my time.

My favorites works of art and the stories that entertain me most seem to glow with self confidence. The artists, whether they are writers, actors, directors, or contributors in less obvious ways, like lighting, are all in. They bet everything, knowing they'll win. And I can't help but go along.

Where does such confidence some from? I'm not sure. I've put together a tentative list, and I'd love to see additions from readers:

• Mastery - With some writers, you can tell from the first sentences that they have taken the time and effort to learn the techniques and approaches of storytelling. In particular, they have an array of tools to choose from. They use the right one, and they execute flawlessly.
• Warts and all - Does it seem to be a contradiction to say the confident writers have humility? I've found the best are willing to expose their weaknesses -- prejudice, bad judgment, ignorance -- on the page in a matter-of-fact way that grounds their strengths. You know that, like you, they are flawed, and that makes their hard-won wisdom all the more valuable.
• Attitude - Confident writers seem to approach their work with a sense that they will succeed. That bleeds through on every page.
• Bona fides - I love it when writers have done their homework and understand their subjects in detail. They don't need to bury me with facts to prove they know what they're talking about. They may only expose ten percent of what they learned, but it is the right ten percent.
• Respect - I have confidence in the writer if the writer has confidence in me. Don't talk down or get overly explicit, or I'll walk away.
• Voice - Confident writers don't sound like anyone else but themselves. It may even be that confidence is what we mean when we speak of the writer's voice.
• Courage - When a writer goes someplace difficult -- when he or she takes a risk in the story, in exposing a sensitive issue, in sharing a dark moment, or in speaking truth to power -- don't you want to go along?

As a clarification, I'm not talking about charm. That is another way to lure people in. It may have confidence included, but charm relies mostly on sensual appeal, the ability to reflect back attitudes and emotion, and deception (such as telling us what we want to hear). Charm is to confidence what infatuation is to true love. A charming person's impact is likely to fade after they leave the room or when you discover your wallet is empty. Beware of Prince Charming.

Also, confident art may include less than confident characters, and usually does. I saw play Philip Seymour Hoffman play Willy Loman in "Death of a Salesman" on Broadway. No one could imagine that Willy is confident, but the actor playing him inhabited the role without hesitation. He commanded the stage even as his character's weaknesses were exposed. "Attention must be paid?" No kidding.

I am coming to believe that you can't write a bigger story without confidence that shows through. Mastering the tools is a requirement, and writers should never stop working to perfect their craft. Some people also find pep talks useful. And I know people who keep a worthy adversary in mind when they sit down to write -- often with "Screw you, [editor or other worthy adversary]" scrawled on Post-It above their writing space.

Writing fast helps. It shuts down the inner critic. A "What the hell?" attitude enables confidence. I've seen the difference with my students who have jumped in and decided to have some fun. They may (usually) end up with horrifyingly crude pages, but the text is engaging in ways their more considered work isn't. Rewriting, not drafting, is the best time for doubts.

How does confidence affect your writing? Have you found ways to instill it? What are your favorite approaches?

Deadlines and Commitments

Most of us are trained from an early age to work toward delivery deadlines. In early grades, there is homework due the next day. In later grades, term papers are added.

Now, rushing to meet a deadline and working under pressure is a bad idea for most of us, but we can use deadlines and commitments to maintain (or even raise) our productivity. They can help by:

• Encouraging us to plan out our work, with specific task toward delivery done each day.
• Putting a line under a project so we stop tweaking beyond what is reasonable.
• Providing a sense of the arc of our careers, with measured milestones.
• Providing a point for reflection -- we can schedule a real post mortem of a project only when it is done. (More on project post mortems tomorrow.)
• Giving us a date at which we can share a project without dissipating our interest. (Too often, people use up their enthusiasm before a work is finished because they get the elicit praise prematurely.)

Other than spec work, my nonfiction work always has deadlines. For fiction, I've had to find ways to set my own. Here's some of what I've done:

• Estimate the hours left based on my history and individual tasks (rewrite a scene, not write a novel), add 50%, and mark the date on a calendar.
• Work toward a contest deadline. (There are lots of contests out there. Check out Stephie Smith's matrix for examples.)
• Join an online writers group with a regular page requirement.

Of course, you can achieve something similar with commitments. Many writers have time or word requirements for each day. Aimee Bender suggests a contract with a friend. And I've suggested making a commitment to yourself each day for the next day's work.

What transforms these commitments into finished works is getting them working toward an overall goal and making sure that they include all the steps toward creating a final work. I know diligent writers who create nothing but first drafts (often incomplete) or who have been rewriting the same book for years.

Most of us have been pushed by the education apparatus to make deadlines and commitments part of our work process. I have mixed feelings about what that does to us. Do we lose some of our creativity? Does it cause us to spend less time in the moment? Do we miss experiences and mute our responses? Probably all of the above. But, since we have internalized deadlines and commitments, why shouldn't put them to work to make us more productive writers?

Picking up the Thread - Reentering the Interrupted Story

When you are in the middle of writing a story, working at full speed with the next scene in plain sight, coming up the with the next words is (usually) easy. When you have been away from a story, you're apt to be lost, disoriented, and stalled.

You can end up in this situation if your commitment fails, you are working from a collection of notes that came together while you were dedicated to another work, or life gets in the way. For me, it usually happens when I am forced to redirect because of a deadline on another work. But whatever has taken you away from a work in progress and allowed it to grow cold, there are things you can do.

• Read it aloud to get the sound of the story in your head again. (It is best to do this the day before.)
• Write a list of ten things you love about your story. These can be about any element that appeals to you, but the ones that get your pulse going (twist endings, witty characters, heartbreaks) are more likely to help you reenter the story world than the practical ones (high concepts, saleability, editorial interest).
• Interview your villain. (You can interview your protagonist, too, but the villain is more likely to be chatty and engaging at the draft stage.) Be sure to ask rude questions.
• Write a pastiche of a scene in your story. It can be one that is already written. I once did this for a story of mine, recreating a favorite scene in the styles of Stephen King, Harlan Ellison, Robert Louis Stevenson, and Mark Twain. It got my engines going again, and it started a flood of ideas for new scenes.

Please note that all of these are "writerly activity." It's not a good idea to count such work against your day's goals. Nonetheless, you may find these exercises valuable as you work to pick up the thread of your story and get back to the fast draft.

What do you do to get back into a story that has gone cold?

Writing Buddies

Most people write more if they are held accountable.  The simplest approach to this is to get someone to regularly ask, "How many words have you written [today, this week, this month]?" This resembles the Weight Watchers weigh in, providing a public declaration that others can respond to (it is hoped, with encouragement). There are online versions of this, most notably through the NaNoWriMo community.

Checking in regularly with a writing parole officer is just what some people need, but some may need to reach higher. For one thing, by just providing a number, it is too easy to cheat. It is too tempting to include what Kristan Higgins calls "writerly things" (think blog entries or notes to editors – instead of things that are words bringing the story forward) in the word count. The words could be on a side project instead of the main work. Or the words could be notes on the story, character sketches or even an estimate of what the writer wrote in his/her head and just needs to get onto paper.

Having a writing buddy makes this sort of cheating less likely because the words themselves need to be turned in. This helps with productivity both because the work is hard to dodge and because quality becomes a factor.

There are other payoffs as well. Encouragement comes at a higher level because the work can now be referred to directly (wonderful description, clever use of metaphor). It also becomes possible to have discussions that include advice, explorations of material, answers to questions and specific feedback.

Just having someone else reading the work – which is driven in part by the need to communicate – has a salutary effect. Along the way, there is real companionship from someone who understands. Writing can be a lonely business, so such a relationship can be invaluable. Besides, you know that when you finish, someone with real investment in the material will be there to say congratulations.

All this, of course, depends on having the right writing buddy. Having someone who is unreliable, working on a different level, negative or doesn't "get" what you write can be actively harmful. With that in mind, here are some criteria for a writing buddy:

• Find someone who is about at the same level. Since you are reading and providing feedback for them, a person who is working at a lower level is likely to be frustrating and less helpful.  Mentee/mentor relationships have their own charm and value, but they are not the same as the writing buddy relationship.
• Their output should be similar and they should be reliable. A big asymmetry in workload can feel unfair. Delays in reading and feedback can become an excuse for writing less.
• Having similar goals may also be important. For instance, a person determined to self-publish might be annoyed by a commercially focused buddy who fulfils genre requirements when they "should" just tell their story. In the other direction, a commercial writer might be insulted when suggestions to add a few elements or cut a scene to fit a market are ignored by someone committed to self-publishing.
• Mutual respect and trust are essential. This may develop over time, but both buddies need to avoid any violations. A typical problem is a caustic comment. When this is direct, it's bad enough. When it is made to a third party, it's disastrous. When it is made to a third party and the manuscript is shared with that person, the writing relationship (if not the friendship) is probably dead.
• While there is a need for candor, writing buddies need to keep their criticism positive, generous and supportive. At least in early critiques, it is wise not to point out more than three concerns. The good work needs to be explicitly noted and praised. And overall, any critique must come across as helpful and encouraging.
• A writing buddy should be a natural audience for your work. They need to enjoy and respect your genre and your style. If they don't "get it" the criticism becomes mechanical at best, scathing at worst. This problem should be evident early in the relationship, but it can even happen with a good writing buddy when a new work takes a different direction. In those circumstances, the writing buddy needs to explain the concern early on (and this honesty needs to be appreciated without argument).
• There should be good "chemistry" between the buddies. I don't know how to explain this, but, when you are in the situation, you'll know if it's there or not.
• Ultimately, critiques need to be expressed in ways that are helpful. This does not mean that a buddy's prescriptions need to be complete, clear and actionable. Most suggestions on how to fix writing aren't quite right. But the concerns need to be expressed, in most cases, well enough so a second look is productive.

Having the right writing buddy can become a springboard for more productive writing – both for you and for your buddy. This can be a great benefit in achieving your goals. It also can provide a reward in the enormous pride you'll feel when your buddy succeeds, too. Maybe you'll even get a thank you in the book.

Copyright © 2012 Peter Andrews