When Will the Storm Break?

This short story’s got a funny/interesting locked-in-a-room-together concept. But I’m a thousand words in and nothing’s happening. Plus, those thousand words have taken two days to write. What’s up with my pacing?


In terms of nothing happening: I think I’m used to novel pacing, where there’s room to go slow. And I think it’s also a problem that I don’t have an AWESOME central image for the story to hurtle towards (yet). Got to think on that, for sure.


In terms of my writing speed: Ok, ok, so I’ve been wondering if fast is really the way to go. Sometimes it is—mostly, I sometimes need to pound something out in one sitting. My TV script was like that, and I think a lot of short stories are like that. If I let them simmer too much I (a) lose the thread/tone/atmosphere (b) skip over the daily warming up because I’m so anxious to get today’s bit of the thing over with. If the whole story’s got to get done in a sitting, I’m forced to, yanno, actually sit for a while and work through the throat-clearing.


But lately I've also been cutting myself yards and yards of slack. It’s my real vacation time, and the last few weeks I’ll have before my friend leaves the country—I want to relish it. Obviously, I’ve got to write some (or I’ll go insane) but it’s important to savor life outside of writing—I can let myself get so consumed and that’s when I get anxious… and write badly (Catch 789 of writing well: past a certain point, the harder you press, the harder it is). All this means, though: I get a few hundred words down and skip on with my day. Not the best thing for pacing/momentum.


So: today I’m going to (1) think of a HAUNTING/BIZARRE/BEAUTIFUL image to center my story around (2) write it until it’s done.

Truth and Consequences, nm

What I've learned this year so far:

Plot is inseparable from structure.

Structure gives a story momentum.

Momentum and plot allow/create an interesting, inevitable, satisfying resolution.

But concentrating too much on structure, plot, and pre-planning can suck out a piece's life.

So: Structure/Plot/Outlining is necessary, but dangerous.

I've decided lately to put novel writing on the back-burner and concentrate on short stories-- they were most of my focus in college, but I haven't written any since.

Short stories had: verve, energy, voice, playfulness.  

They did not have: structure, momentum, satisfying resolutions.

My current work is the opposite.  

I think my problem is authenticity.  In an effort to write "correctly" I haven't trusted my instincts enough... so I've been on a sort of hiatus, and using a private diary to open myself back up.  I felt that a public blog was only helping my emotional crippling/cramping.  I feel more in touch with myself and my needs and my views now, than I have for two years-- I feel free.

But I haven't only opened up to myself-- I've had a close confidant over the last few months.  As I said to him (for me, for now) writing requires a certain amount of loneliness.  If I can communicate all I want to by hanging out and talking to my friends, why put myself through the financially inconvenient and ego-bruising ringer?  What if I can either feel connected to the people in my life, or connected to my writing?  But as I've unclenched, I've realized that even though he's always willing to *listen*, I can't always say what I mean without fiction.  

Turns out, I've been training myself to be a hack, and 1. I'm not technically proficient enough to be one 2. what's the point of that?  

My ultimate goal right now is to put myself and my truth into my work as bravely and completely as possible.   I'm still trying to strengthen my work by using what I now know about structure and planning and the mechanics of a strong story.  I'm still trying to use my analytical abilities in my writing.  But mostly, I'm trying to find authenticity-- the place between what happens and how it feels.