As we write, we learn.
When I compare my recent work with my early books, I see major changes. My dialogue no longer sounds so wooden and unrealistic. My characters have a depth and complexity missing in my first couple of novels. My sentences, in general, have become less wordy and academic, more varied in their length and structure.
I’m sure that if you’ve been writing for a while, you can discern the same types of positive developments in your own work. One common pattern for authors is to shift from an intuitive, chaotic process of following one’s imagination to a more systematic and disciplined approach – a transition from being a “pantser” to a “plotter”.
Early books often reflect personal passions. New authors are so excited that they really don’t need to think. The words just pour out onto the page, almost without conscious effort. As authors become more aware of craft issues, however, they often move in a direction of more conscious control.
Writing my first novel, Raw Silk, was like that – a breathless rush of feeling. At the same time, my progression in terms of plot has followed a contrary trend. When I began writing, I was a “plotter”. I had a clear mental outline for each book. I knew what main events would occur. I had sketches for most of the important scenes and a plan for the ending. Sometimes I’d experience “Aha” moments along the way – I was never so enamored of my outline that I’d reject an unanticipated but brilliant insight! – but I’d already worked out sixty to seventy percent of the plot when I sat down to create the first chapter.
Nowadays, that’s all changed. I’ve become far more comfortable allowing the story to lead me along unanticipated paths, rather than forcing it to stick to my planned route. And to be honest, I believe this has improved the result. I think my recent books are far more spontaneous, original and surprising than my early stories. In addition, they’re more fun to write, less like the term papers I was so adept at churning out in graduate school, more like my poems.
When I open my mind, ideas flood in. While this makes the writing process intense and dynamic, it does create problems, especially when I’m penning a longer piece. As plot twists occur to me, I’ll often throw them in, just to see what happens. I like to keep different possibilities alive – for me, writing a predictable book is almost as bad as writing an ungrammatical one! I want to keep my readers guessing. Eventually, of course, I have to figure out how to resolve all these notions. In general, readers don’t appreciate loose ends.
I’m more than three quarters of the way through my new novel right now, and I’m juggling half a dozen intriguing plot threads. Which of these should I follow? Which should I drop? I have to decide pretty soon. There are only four and a half chapters left!
The dramatic, climactic scene is fairly clear in my mind. I’m not entirely winging it. But I’m still not certain about the last chapter. Should it include sex? Revelations? Should I drop in a teaser for the next book? Should the romance with which I’ve been flirting become more serious, or does that conflict with the gleeful pansexuality of the series?
So many questions! Right now, they’re all just dangling, unanswered, all potential shapes for my story. Like the famous quantum cat, these different, potentially conflicting alternatives exist simultaneously in my mind. And as confusing as that is, it’s also exhilarating.
Sometimes, it seems, I like to keep myself guessing.
Eventually, I’ll have to open the box to discover which ones will survive.
But not quite yet.
It seems a shame that the writers with the biggest fan clubs are the most predictable. I hope you never stop experimenting with characters and situations, Lisabet.
Thank you, Jean!
I can’t imagine making my living as a writer. Because (alas) predictability sells.