Plotting for Pantsers 5 - The confidence game

One of the most powerful scenes on broadcast television was dictated on the set of NYPD Blue by David Milch. Dennis Franz as Detective Andy Sipowicz brought the scene, a rant against God, to life on camera just minutes after it had been created. (I just read about this in The Revolution Was Televised, a book I recommend.) Pantsers, you are not alone. And some wonderful writing comes from a spontaneous flow of words.

And yet, as I indicated last time, pantsers often feel less confident than their (equally wonderful) plotting colleagues who, in theory, always know what they will be writing about. Pantsers write themselves into corners. They doubt the value of a scene, a chapter, or even a whole book. They run out of gas. They wonder if the last book they wrote is really the last book they ever will write.

There are traps that pantsers need to avoid. Looping, skimping on preparation and research, jumping to new projects when the going gets tough, and dodging emotional engagement can sap confidence and trigger paralysis. But you can also take steps to build and maintain your confidence.

Write one true sentence. This is especially useful when you seem to have painted yourself into a corner. Writing the whole scene or finding the plot point that will allow threads to come together may be impossible. Don't ask too much of yourself. Ask for one true sentence. It can be the next one in the story or it can be a question about what you need most to continue. (Yes, questions are sentences. And, chances are, your subconscious will answer the question later, in the garden or the shower or on the treadmill.)

Rediscover the fire. I hope you have adopted the practice, before you even begin a new work, of writing down ten reasons (in full sentences) why you love this idea and must write about it. If those sentences are good, they can revive your interest and reassure you that this project must be completed. If you don't have the sentences, either try to construct them now or go back to the best scene you have written (preferably in the work in progress, but it can be in another work you wrote) and reread it.

Know what drives you. Why do you need to write? Do you have a message? A person you want to communicate with? An image you have to get out of your head? A part of your life you need to understand? Find your best reason and remind yourself of if.

Understand what you do well. I'm a great one for lists, so I have written down what I have to offer as a writer. We tend to concentrate on our weaknesses, worrying about them and trying to overcome them. That is not a confidence builder. What do you do best? If you know what that is, use that gift to write another piece of your work in progress.

Create small successes. This may be the best. Success begets success. Find something small you know you can do, and do it. Then do the next thing. Don't be scared. Just scale back your ambition for a few days and get on with it.

Read something by your favorite author. The short stories of Harlan Ellison, Edgar Alan Poe, and James Joyce are the reasons why I became a writer. They thrill me by demonstrating what is possible. When I go back to them, I find the old impulse to put words on paper is revived and refreshed. Who inspires you?

All of these are positive steps you can take. And if you have a lucky hat or an affirmation that works for you, go for it. Oh, one thing to avoid - don't look for empathy from a plotter. Too many see the path they take as the only true path. Don't be bullied into following them. Instead, come to love your own twisty, turny, absurd and dangerous path.

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?

The Disrupted Writer - Fast recovery

Your planning is perfect. You've mastered distractions. You're writing every day. Then life gets in the way.

Writers are not immune to financial concerns, the ache of romance gone wrong, the agony of a child with serious illness, or the shock and grief of a death in the family. If they were, they would not have the experiences they need to move readers.

Disruptions happen. They are beyond your control. But how do you deal with them? I have already written about Reentering the Interrupted Story and how listing Ten Reasons to Love Your Story can reignite your passion for your manuscript. Either of these might suggest strategies you can use to get back into writing when you are disrupted. But there are other approaches (and perhaps you have a few to share?).

Let's take the bad effects of disruption one by one and look at what you might do:

• You're delayed - Here there is a difference between a five-minute phone call and a three-hour stay in the emergency room. The more severe the delay, the more a challenge it will be to your discipline. Go back to your plan, even if you do not have time to complete it. Add some words to your manuscript as soon as it is possible.
• Echoes distract you - Even after a disruption is over, the situation may continue to run through your mind, or you may be overcome by the emotions. Acknowledge that the disruption is not necessarily over when you return to your writing desk, and it may need more time that you suspect. But replaying the situation may not be useful. In those cases, try doing something to transition yourself. You might, for instance, write a letter to one of your characters about what you just went through (and then write their response).
• Your idea falls apart - Is there anything more frustrating? Sometimes the structures your minds produce are exquisitely delicate and they evaporate with a knock on the door. Taking a deep breath to dispel the natural distress is the best first step. The next is to begin reconstructing immediately, even if you can only snatch at fragments. Like dreams, these concepts get harder to bring back with time. If it still feels like a complete loss, forget reconstruction and get to work immediately on something different.
•  You lose your enthusiasm or confidence - I sometimes thing being a writer or taking on a challenging work is a spell cast upon me, and an interruption can break that spell. Sometimes, coming back from this is just a matter of using the Reentering or Ten Reasons approaches noted above, but sometimes I need a pep talk or "proof" or a new attitude that gives me permission to work on a "lousy" project or do a lousy job. Okay. Tomorrow, things will be better.

Of course, a disruption may be so big it becomes the new normal. If you lose your job, it will take time to secure a new one. If your house burns down, you can't move back in a day later. In many cases, getting back to work will mean recommitting in the face of what your life is, as opposed to what you still believe it should be. (Which is not to say that you should "get on with it" immediately. Major life events are owed their time. You can't rush through the equivalent of Kübler-Ross's Five Stages of Grief without paying a price.)

Once you recommit to your writing, you need to reassess the work in terms of who you are now. Life events have a way of changing priorities. Finally, you need to rework your plans to reflect time available, opportunities, new options, and changing processes.

Overall, your response to disruptions is within your control. You only become derailed for a long period of time if you allow yourself to be. Sometimes, your recovery will be slow and begin with small things. Sometimes, you'll find a way to jump back in with more energy and commitment than ever before. I think of Ray Bradbury, who said that a day without writing was a little death. He lived this sentiment, when, after a disastrous stroke that left him unable to type, he began dictating stories as soon as he was physically able to.  If you are determined to write, nothing can stop you.

Writing Is Juggling

If you've ever tried to juggle, dance, or learn the steps to an advanced martial arts kata, you'll know what I'm talking about here. You are performing at a high level, you add something to it, and disaster strikes. Within a few tries, you can't even do what used to come naturally.

Writers love courses and book that provide tips and advice. The more, the better.  I teach, so I am the last person to discourage this perspective. But trying to integrate several significant new approaches into your writing all at once can be a recipe for disaster.

And those problems are normal. I first learned of the phenomenon I call "dropping the juggling balls" (or dropping the chainsaws when I am looking for danger) when I studied Piaget. It is related to the way we learn and organize new information. When we are little, we go through these fumbles so often, we barely notice them. We just keep on keeping on. But they happen less often for most of us when we are older.

As a result, writers who are diligent about working on their craft can end up discouraged and depressed. I thought I had talent...  I thought I had figured this out... I thought I'd never make this mistake again...

No, you are not becoming a talentless, inarticulate hack. You are growing in your craft, and these are the accompanying pains. So cheer up. Something good is about to happen.

Once you adjust your attitude, don't give up learning new skills. But consider resolving to master only one challenge at a time. Focus enables learning.

Writing requires high-level juggling -- character, plot, style, grammar, tone, theme, setting and more. Sometimes they come out the way you want them to all at once, but that is rare. Becoming a master writer is a livelong exercise, so expect to drop a few balls along the way.

Confidence and Joy - Kafka was a riot at parties

Sorry for those writers who identify with the anxious, tortured Franz Kafka, but his friends told biographers that he was fun, a great conversationalist and a quick with. His humor bleeds through in his stories, if you're paying attention.

And I think, even though he didn't sell much during his lifetime and he asked that all his papers be burned (they weren't), he had a good sense of his own worth as a writer. He rushed in, wrote in an eccentric voice, took on his worst demons, and triumphed. And by triumphed I mean he got the work done, and I strongly suspect this gave him joy and built his confidence.

Confidence when you sit down to write and joy when you finish a manuscript are what drive the life of a writer. More than money and fame and publication. In fact, money, fame, and publication without confidence in your talent and a sense of accomplishment can actually stop (or corrupt) your writing. Think of Ralph Ellison and Harper Lee. Or the many stories about Hollywood destroying writers. Or Salinger hiding in his fortress (though there are rumors of books hidden away there).

Don't let this happen to you. Remember the first time  you eagerly sat down to write a story that burned within you and seemed to fill pages effortlessly? And how great you felt when you wrote "The End"? I hope you still have that confidence and joy everyday because it is jet fuel for the writing experience.

But maybe not. Part of the confidence and joy came from a lack of perspective in your early years. If your parents teachers and friends loved your story, chances are that it was not greeted by editors with the same enthusiasm. Reality checks can grind away at confidence and crush the joy. Sell something, even a book that becomes a bestseller, and the trolls will come out to point out glitches, call the work derivative, and make vulgar comments. Authors live in a public space filled with people who have high expectations, the need to pull someone down, and absolute clear views of your faults.

To have a writing career, you need to maintain the confidence and hang onto the joy despite this. Here are a few suggestions.

• Surround yourself with supportive people.
• Don't let doubters read your stuff. (If possible, don't let them know you write.)
• Don't feed the trolls.
• Promise yourself celebrations when you succeed, and keep those promises.
• Don't read negative reviews.
• Created and keep things around that remind you of accomplishments. (I keep a portfolio of work I'm proud of, check off what I complete, and somewhere have a nice note from Michael Crichton about a speech I wrote.)

It is up to you to find ways to maintain your confidence and to allow yourself joy. Dedicate a portion of your creativity to coming up with specific actions that will support your outlook on writing. Then follow through on them.

Oh, and it is okay to create an angst-ridden persona. It might even be good marketing, but you'll have to avoid putting a lampshade on your head at parties.

What about you? How do you provide yourself with the positive emotions that fuel productive writing?

NOTE: This blog is one month old today. I'm having terrific fun, and I appreciate having so many readers. Thank you.