I wrote a blog entry a couple months ago refuting the idea that characters drive the stories, not the authors. Well, I’m willing to admit when I’ve misspoke, and in this situation, I did. A little, anyway. The take-away of that entry should have been…
Don’t you hate it when you think you’ve got a sure thing, only to realize that the people who matter don’t agree? Yeah, got my very first rejection in this wonderful world of publishing. I know, I know, get used to it. It’ll happen again…
Short answer, it’s coming. Had some things come up in my life that put a temporary hold on the writing front. First one was good — a trip to Cali for a friend’s wedding. Second one was bad — break-in while we were away that resulted in both of our computers stolen. But I choose to see the sunny side of this. Nothing that couldn’t be replaced was taken. No one was hurt. Cat’s still alive. All our files (including photos and stories) were backed up. And I got to upgrade my three year old computer (although Adobe CS is going to be a bitch to replace).
I was about 50% through the editing of a completed story when this adventure began. That should be finished and posted shortly. Then I have a few other things I can hopefully get back to without too much trouble. Not sure I’ll be able to finish one of those projects in time for Literotica’s Summer Lovin’ story contest, but I was beginning to wonder if maybe I should try shopping that story around, anyway (and I do have a back-up plan).
I’m over half of the way through a fairly short piece that I’ve been working on my phone (crazy, I know, and really inefficient, but something is better than nothing).
Oh, and there’s also that short paranormal contest that I haven’t forgotten about. That one is coming along in stutters. Will get there. It’s only early August, right?
“Sometimes, a story can take a life of its own and lead the author down a path he or she least expected.”
I’m sure nearly every writer has heard some variation on this thought. The theory behind it is a simple one (a good one, even): we’re not just wordsmiths, we’re creators of entire universes, populated with characters so vivid that they could drive the stories on their own. They live and breath in a world of our making, plucked from our imaginations. It’s what we hope to achieve when we set ourselves before a computer (or tablet/iPhone/pad of paper/whatever).
I’m pretty sure that I’ve even given this advice in the past because it’s so noble a goal. But there’s such a thing as taking it too far. Your characters do not dictate the flow of the story; you do. (I bolded that because it’s important to keep in mind.) There is no such thing as freewill when it comes to your stories. You’ve got some say in the matter. You are, after all, writing it. If you don’t want Scott running away with the maid, then don’t let Scott run away with the maid!
Here’s the rub: you can’t force it. There has to be a balance between your carefully structured plot and how your characters navigate it. If you (via your characters) keep getting pulled down a particular avenue that wasn’t intended, then you probably need to analyze your characters. Most likely, there’s a good reason for the draw. Why does Scott want the maid over the flawed yet beautiful Genevieve? The answer lies in how you’ve written Scott.
I wrote a 45k novella in which I “was true to my characters.” But in the end, I neither liked the story I told nor the character I wrote, and when I wanted to force a happy ending, it felt forced (shocking, I know). Hindsight being what it is, I should have paused as soon as things started to spiral out of my control and asked myself: why are we headed in this direction? The fix wouldn’t have been to simply course correct the plot. It would have required me to readjust the motivations and actions of the characters. And it would have been a small amount of work then, rather than the daunting task of a complete rewrite I have now.
It’s a fine line, for sure. You want your characters to thrive and mingle and play and have thoughts of their own. One of the most pleasant things about writing are these little surprises along the way. But you also need to mind the story you intend to tell. You’re not the historian of your imagined world; you’re its creator.
[message_box title=”UPDATE (3.30.2012)” color=”black”]Interest in what “erotica for men” has continued to grow since the day I posted the thoughts below. Clearly there’s a market for it, but I’m no longer convinced this market is all that different than what “erotica for women” is. In…
I’ve been writing creatively for over 15 years. I don’t say this to brag (after all, it’s been over 15 years and I’m still writing with adverbs and expressive eyes). I say this for context. The quality (and subject matter!) has changed over the years…
They can be great to attend. Enriching, educational, even inspirational. I’ve had some amazing experiences at them, and if you can get your employer to fund a trip to one, I highly recommend taking advantage.
Working them is an entirely different. You’re on from the time you get up to the time you go to bed, and I don’t think you can understand the full extent of the pressure until it’s over. That’s how I feel, anyway, every single time one is over.
OK, so what’s the point, you ask? Well, somewhere, squeezed in the moments between receptions and plenaries and set-up and tear-down, I wrote a story about the conference experience. 14k words, too! It’s making the rounds, but I think it’s a pretty good one, too, that explores the unique situations that crop up at these kinds of things. And hilariously (since the last story was mis-posted under Mature) this one actually is a Mature-themed tale about a sexy older executive and a young programmer and how he comes to view his boss in a new light.
Look for it in the coming weeks!
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With a mention on Lucy V Morgan’s blog, I feel like I need to prepare for new guests, and since vacuuming and putting away the laundry wouldn’t exactly be appreciated by most readers (unless you’re my wife), I’ll just make a little post here. I’ve…
Just a head’s up to anyone reading this. I’ve completed a final read through of a new story (that was actually finished a little while back). This one’s about a kid’s first time at a strip club and an interesting encounter he has there. No, it’s not with a stripper, it’s far more unique. Anyway, I’m passing it on to my editor (who doubles as my wife) and will post when she’s finished with it.
I’m still working on the Little Miss sequel, don’t worry. The plan is that the story arc will cover three parts. I’m almost done with the first (just have to write the naughty parts).
There are two ways to read a sequel request:
(Well, and I suppose there’s some middle ground in there, too. Something about not all conflicts being resolved, loose ends to tie up, etc. I don’t include this because I think a good story leaves a little up to the imagination. Think of it as a snap shot of a person’s life; when is that snap shot ever complete?)
The stories that I write are, in my mind, complete. The arc that I wanted to tell has been told. The development that I wanted the characters to undergo has been undergone. We’ve made the journey from point A to point B. For this reason, I tend not to read sequel requests to be point 1 above.
As far as point 2 is concerned, it’s really flattering to get the request, but it’s also a pretty dangerous request. The story that I’d tell wouldn’t simply be an extended conclusion to the original. It would have to be a new story. Now we’re talking about managing expectations: you have one expectation in the sequel, I have another. It’s why so often, the originals are better than their sequels (Godfather and Terminator aside). We go into the first movie without any clue what to expect; we go into its sequel with a long list of preconceived notions.
This isn’t to say that I’m opposed to writing them. Just so you know, I’m currently working on one for Little Miss Communication (largely motivated by comments and requests). Rags to Reunions won’t get one (come on, you know what happens next…), but I am toying around with the idea of an Adele Blanchette spin-off.
The point is, I like the idea of sequels, too, and am very guilty of asking my favorite authors for them. There’s just a great deal of risk involved (for both reader and writer) in sequels. In the end, I have to be comfortable telling a story that feels strong and fresh on its own — not just more of them same.
