Chat Room Romance

Tomorrow I leap back into the deep end: the beginning of my new WIP.

Breathe.
Breathe.
Breathe.

2 months sorting it out in my head, and I now know:
-- the character bios
-- the plot
-- some of the themes
-- specifics about this strange world the characters exist in

But so far, it's like I've been chatting with the characters online, and tomorrow I'll meet them for real. Wow, I'm nervous! But I'll just have to wash my hair, smile, and show the fuck up.

Who knows? Maybe this will be the love of my life.

Madman Shaman

Today literary agent Nathan Bransford asked his writer-blog readers how they keep the crazies at bay. The crazies meaning: that voice at the back of your mind telling you you're insane for wasting all this time/money/love on writing.

Reading the posts has been depressing. It seems that faith is the only answer.

Well, I'm running on faith-fumes at the moment and the crazies have swallowed a couple projects whole. August is going to be a time for recharging and new beginnings, and come September, I'll try to dig out those projects from the crazy-dung.

It's time to remember what *writing* and *finishing* and *pride* feels like, instead of cover letters and synopsis fretting and constant revision. That's my answer to all the crazies of daily life anyway: write. So of course, when editing and the publishing industry get me down, I go back to my old standby and write another manuscript or two.

Short and Sweet

Here in the trenches, publishing looks pretty tough. I'm sixteen months into a full-on assault, and still have yet to earn a metal of any real worth.

SO: I'm going back to basics, both for fun and glory.

1. Short stories. They were my bread and butter through most of college (I was a creative writing major), and I haven't written one since. Maybe I'll get a few published, and stretch a few muscles I forgot I had.

I've been turning over the idea of paradoxes and "what if?" questions, and last night (with the help of my very lyrical song title collection on iTunes and a few riddle-centric websites) I came up with a list of fifteen interesting prompts/inspirations/concepts. Each have a dilemma or battle at the heart of them-- a choice the character needs to make, which could go either way.

Today, I plotted (which for me meant making nearly a rough draft) out a love story between an assistant and her boss. And yes, like all love stories, this one will have a happy ending ;)

2. Class. I loved school when I was in it, and I teach school now that I'm out. So when I asked a friend for advice on finding solid MFA recs, he immediately recommending taking a class, and I signed up for one at the writing center within the hour. The one I chose is eight sessions long, and centers on revising the novel.

It starts September 12-- JUST in time for my newly minted rough draft ;)

With the rec. load sitting lighter on my shoulders, I feel less urgency in getting my query letters out. I think I need to go back through the book and make sure it's as perfect as I can make it. A long slog, but hopefully by now I've taken enough time from it to have better perspective.

Together, I'm hoping the class and short stories will take me back to my roots and shore up my foundations :D

Spackling and Sanding Helps the Topcoat Go on Fast and Smooth

I'm still working on my outline for the newest manuscript. At this point, I've got the general plot and characters down (though, frustratingly, I can't find the right name for my main character).

Exercises I've found very helpful:

-- Character bios. I've always found these corny, but telling the story of a character's life is actually really helpful. Also, a great warm-up.

-- Synopsis run-downs. I got stuck coming up with my act three, and it seemed that telling the story to someone-- or even writing it down for myself-- helped crystalize it.

Telling it like a bedtime story allows interesting twists or patterns or character traits emerge, for one. For another, that kind of storytelling makes it easy to leave out the boring bits and add to the fun ones. For me: verbal storytelling has been good to clarify the concept, or to give a very nutshell description, and written storytelling has great for summarizing the entire plot.

Now, I've got a forty-point "beat-sheet"/outline. Each "beat" is equivilant to 2-2.5K. That's part of my method for slowing down-- I don't want to micro-manage every word, because that leads to summation, bordom, and a WAYYY too fast pace. But I also don't want to go hiking without a trail.

Now, I want to make sure the supporting character's journeys mirror each other the way the lead characters' do. Then, I'll try to polish and strengthen each "Act" of the story, beat by beat (forty beats is too many for little hallow-headed me to tackle all at once). Finally, I'll make sure the balance and pacing feels right. Then-- by this weekend, if all goes right-- I'll start the rough draft!

(Interesting) side-note: I've reverted to three-act structure. When my storytelling got more naturalistic, and I knew enough about the characters/plot to go with the flow, the story broke into a "beginning," "middle," and "end."

NEWSFLASH: Love Conquers All

My current manuscript is a love story.

Yes, a happy, drippy, emotionally overwrought but moving and beautiful love story: two people who can only be happy together, kept apart.... until they overcome society and foibles and bad upbringings and all. Until suddenly-- heart/eyes/arms full-- they aren't apart anymore.

I've been very busy with synopsis and notes. Last week, I tried to write a scene just to see how close I am to "pages"-- it went very badly, but some good details and twists came out of it. So I wrote up character bios and thought about theme.

A couple days ago, my mother asked what the story was about, and I told her. Only instead of giving her the so-called A-story, I told her about the love story that had inspired the concept to begin with. She loved it, and I realized I had lost my way.

Not to say the work I did before was worthless-- no, it was vital. But I need to change the emphasis.

And I've had a personal tragedy this week (a death in the family). Honestly, I don't feel up to writing about fighting and killing and anger. Love and thwarted dreams and a slower pace feels right, for now.

Today, I sketched out an outline that's been percolating out of the raw material of my old synopsis and notes and outlines and bios. This feels right, though it still needs a great deal of refining.

My goals with this manuscript, as well as my prep for it:
-- Use more emotional climaxes and twists (as opposed to physical ones)
-- Savor each scene
-- Make it beautiful

Ode to the Unthinkable

OH MY GOD I JUST SENT A QUERY LETTER WITH THE WRONG NAME WRITTEN IN!

Yes, I'd researched the agent. I'd personalized the query. BUT, I only personalized the, yanno, personalized bits. So I change the letter for each agent, but the bulk nevertheless stays the same... thus, copy and paste and THEN personalize.

But this time, though I changed the body of the letter I didn't change the name. OH MY FREAKING GOD.

So *this* is how unprofessionalism starts. With a gritted jaw and shaky, undernourished hands.

It's FUCKING HORRIBLE being green

I was thinking about Jane Smiley's A Thousand Acres today, and getting so jealous. Maybe I, too, should lift a plot from Shakespeare and turn it into a Pulitzer Prize.

God knows I can't do it on my own. My plot is turning out to be way too Mafia-- and I'm not at all interested in the Mafia. I get amorality, but immorality, not so much. And I don't get hierarchies at all. Should I throw this plot out and start again? I feel like this is straying incredibly far from my concept, which has to do with genies.

Apparently, a good book writing schedule is: 2 months prep (plotting, note-taking, character bios, etc), 2 months writing, 2 months editing. Does that mean I have a full month left to plot? I might need it. Though the character bios have turned out nicely-- even the Djinn-centric ones.

Maybe it won't be the *mob,* it'll be a corporation. Lately I've been so money hungry (read: broke) that talking business would be fun. And my heroine/love interest is already neck-deep in a medical supply start-up.

Uh oh, maybe I'm more Ayn Rand than Jane Smiley.

And I've NEVER EVER been jealous of Ayn Rand.

So, I guess the point is: I'm intending to work on the plot until I get it right. Which might take a while, because for me, the plot's the toughest part.

Meat and Potatoes

My manuscript has no stakes.

I know who my main characters are, and I know what they want *emotionally.* But what are their *material* needs?

This is shaping up to be a quest novel, but I'm having trouble figuring out what the quest is (ostensibly) for. I don't know what the bad guys *want,* and I don't know why the good guys can't let them have it. UH OH.

And even if, for the heroes, the bad guys being bad guys might be enough... why should these villains scare us ordinary schmoes?

AND, what the hell does love got to do with it?

The Materialist's Guide To: Post-Concept, Pre-Story

1) SPAGHETTI METHOD: throw everything onto the wall until something sticks.

During the brainstorming period, I tend to get most of my inspiration from mediocre movies, books, and television plots. The really great stuff just gets me down on myself, but the popcorn stories are great as jumping off points. Seeing someone else's mistakes or missed opportunities gets my creativity pumping.

Don't worry, by the time the idea or plot point is filtered through your themes, your concept, and your brain, it's not anything like the material that inspired it. The idea is to find what inspires you, and hang around lots of that stuff, throwing bits and pieces onto your mental dartboard until a bunch of cool stuff sticks.

2) CHARTS AND GRAPHS:

Once I've got a bunch of ideas for my characters, I divide up my outline into 1. Acts (I always use 5) and 2. Storylines (I usually have A-D, but with a manuscript like the one I'm working on now, a small E storyline could fill things in nicely.

With this manuscript, I'm aiming for 85K words. While each *act* should come out to roughly 17K words, each *storyline* isn't equal. The A-storyline should be much more important, and take up much more space than the E-storyline, for instance. For my current manuscript, the A-storyline gets about 27K, the B-storyline 22, the C-storyline 17, the D-storyline 13, and the E-storyline 7. That's a *rough* estimate.

I then make up an act-by-act, story-by-chart. The acts are the Y-axis, the storylines the X-axis, so that the letters at the top correspond to storylines, the numbers down the side to acts. Under each storyline/beside each act, I filled in the number of words (by thousand) per act/storyline. Some of the acts will have 5K for the A-story, some 6K. Some of the acts will have 4K for the B-story, some 5K, etc.

In this manuscript, the D-story is a foil for the A-story, and the C-story for the B-story. Therefore, in the acts where I thought the emphsis should be on the A story, I gave A 1K "extra" and D 1K "fewer" words. Again, this is *rough*-- more so I can keep my thread and remember where to put emphasis/what's important. If I plot correctly, however, the final word-counts *should* line up naturally.

3) WORKSHEETS:

So, now I know a bunch of random stuff I want to happen, and I know where my emphasis should be-- so now what? My A-story and my B-story are *by far* the most important: the other stories are countermelodies on the same theme. So, now I've got to think: what dilemma does my main character face in the A-story? In the B-story? The dilemmas are *thematically* linked, but are different in terms of plot devices, characters, etc. In my manuscript, for instance, my A-story is an action/political scheme, and my B-story is romantic... BUT, they are both about how to get what you want without subjecting others.

*Make sure that the dilemmas are *real.* They should be *unsolvable.* Otherwise 1. the story is boring to read 2. it has no heart 3. why are you bothering to write it anyway? Just to be pedantic?

In this manuscript's case, the A- and D-stories play with the same dilemma, and same with the B- and C-stories.

By now, I'm usually forming a narration in my head, because that's what I do. But if the spaghetti concepts aren't falling into place by now, you can also make a "Beginning, Middle, End" chart. Once you know the beginning and end for each storyline, a powerful middle shouldn't be too hard-- just think "what would make the end impossible to get to, based on this beginning?"

Once you have the beginning, middle, and end, think of a general bridge to get from one to another. These are short notes-- remember, this is for *you,* and you don't need to know every sign and stoplight right now-- you just need to know which road to take.

4) BACKBONE:

My first outline looks like this:

A-story
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.

B-story
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.

etc.

When I've filled out the *general, one-phrase* event for each storyline by act, I plug in the word-counts from my chart. Then I think things like: I wanted to emphasize the A-story in Act 3, because I want that story to hit hard there. But is my A-story, Act 3 plot-point strong enough for that?

This sounds insane, but it will usually work out-- especially if you've been trained to think in Act structure. Naturally, you'll have found a scary horrible plot-point for the A-story at the end of Act 3, and a resolution question for Act 5. You're so used to stories, you probably form narrations this way anyway.

BUT, the good thing about this method is it exposes weak plot points, and places where you might have let the tension go slack. For instance, it turned out my B-story, Act 4 was incredibly lame. Buried with the other plot points, it didn't look so bad, but when I saw I'd have to play with it for four thousand words I realized I needed to do some thinking.

With all those great speghetti concepts to shop from, the raw materials are probably good; I find that what usually happens here is that plot points need to be flipped, rather than abandoned or created.

SO: Now you've got a sketch of the entire book. You've transformed the theme into a (plot-)symphony, and know you've got:

1. a backbone strong enough for a novel-length manuscript (something I, a short writer, have trouble doing); and

2. great pacing.

Note: this is only the macro plotting-- the micro stuff is just as tough, and just as important... but it can wait until tomorrow :). Also, this is all based on the idea that you already know you're characters as well as you need to. Meaning: you know their strengths and weaknesses, and what journey they'll go on over the course of the story. For me, figuring that out goes with figuring out the theme, because characters usually come to me first. BUT, it's necessary to have specific "people" you're working with while plotting, in order to keep it cohesive.

Shaking in My Freaking Boots

I'm sending out my first queries today.

Why am I terrified?

Location Location Location

I haven't written yet today. 

This morning, I sat on the porch with my mother for coffee and breakfast.  Couldn't write there.

So I went downstairs.  But my dad was blasting his music, and the whole house was bouncing.  He tends to make a lot of noise, and I love silence-- so I bought earplugs.  But they don't work, and I couldn't write.

This afternoon, I was driving all over Christandom trying to make some money.  Couldn't write in the car, either.  I've since dumped that job because the Pros (a tiny bit of money) no longer outweigh the Cons (time suck that leaves me too tired to write).

I'm going to write now.  With my lapdesk, in my living room, in my big comfy red chair.  Or at my dining room table, with the screen door open.  Or in my nook with the metal table and the rocking chair and lamp, though that's more of a winter spot.

The important thing:

My writing place must be silent, and I must be utterly alone.

Suffocation No Breathing, or: How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying

Literary agent Rachelle Gardner says that though platform is important, writers should only spend 10% of their "free" time on social networking/platform building, and 90% on improving their writing.  But which 10%, and which 90?

Since the school year ended, I've been spending a huge swath in the middle of the day doing my part-time job.  That swath is necessary; I've got to pay my bills, and my savings is pretty pathetic since I 1. visited family 2. bought a new computer (my old one died).  But that swath is also supremely tiring.  Though I only earn a few hundred dollars a week, my job is draining, and I've been having trouble writing as much as I should.  

Not timewise; I spend quite a bit of time staring at the computer or making notes.  But I'm so exhausted that work is slow and painful.  It feels like a chore.

What to do when the job gets in the way of the career?  I feel as though I'm going crazy; this is why I quit my last job.  I *can't* not write-- I get cranky and angry and frustrated and sad.  

But I'm just plain too tired.  Tips please?

The one with the honking nose, luscious lips, sea-foam green eyes, and the daddy issues

How vital is it to describe your characters?

I'm of the "draw your own conclusions" school. I tell you what the characters say and do, and you tell me who and what they are.

To me, when a crit group member says, "I couldn't visualize the character" or "Which one said that?" or "Add more physical description," I think:

The character isn't well enough imagined. His dialogue or actions aren't specific enough. He isn't unique. He isn't yet 3D.

So, I punch up his dialogue, make sure he's conveying his feelings in ways/actions only *he* would. I do *not* add a physical description.

To me, physical descriptions limit a reader's imagination, rather than spark it.

I try to respect the characters, and:
Detailed physical description labels a character, rather than telling the reader about him as a singular being going through a singular story. My characters aren't types-- they're people.

Just like I don't tell my dad about every unruly red hair on my best friend's head while I'm venting to him about what she just did, I don't go into time-wasting and character-degrading description digressions while writing. I only give a general physical sketch when it's vital to the story, and even then, often through the prism of another character's dialogue.

I try to respect the readers, and:
I'd rather err on the side of subtlety. Readers are smart and easily bored-- they *want* to draw their own conclusions. And because I enjoy collaboration between audience/storyteller, *I* want them to have their own interpretation of the story, too.

It's arrogant to think that I fully understand the story I'm telling-- the skills of a literary critic are very different from the skills of a writer. I only (try to) present an enjoyable, clear story to the audience. It's their job (and hopefully, their pleasure) to judge and interpret it... and it's not my place to do their job for them.

I bring this up, because in the Washington Post's piece "Words, Camera, Action!," movie critic Ann Hornaday claims that detailed, ultra-specific physical descriptions of characters are a mark of a good script:

Consider how characters from the hit romantic comedy "He's Just Not That Into You" are introduced in the script: Gigi, "pretty and approachable," Conor, "cute but holding on to his frat boy roots" and Anna, "hot in an earthy sort of way." And compare that level of detail to how writer-director John Patrick Shanley describes Loretta, the leading lady of "Moonstruck," in the first few pages of the script: "Italian, 37. Her hair black, done in a dated style, is flecked with grey. She's dressed in sensible but unfashionable clothes of a dark color."After a few tartly revealing exchanges of dialogue, Shanley writes that Loretta gives a florist "a sudden, brief, blinding smile. It's the first time we've seen her smile. She has gold work around one of her two front teeth." The audience has a clear, indelible, even poignant image of Loretta (ultimately played in an Oscar-winning performance by Cher) as a woman who might be practical and even tough, but whose longing for romance has yet to be completely extinguished. All by the time the opening credits have rolled.

But throwaway physical descripts don't mean throwaway characterization. Detailed, ultra-specific characters are a mark of an excellant story, but their looks have nothing to do with it-- even in a visual medium.

Characters' actions speak louder than their words, and their words louder than their looks.

Get in. Get out. Get going.

Pillars of the Earth and World Without End, both by Ken Follett, are desert-island books. The kind of books that you could subsist on for years (if necessary, God forbid).

They are in a naive, "He felt scared"/"She went home," style. They are set during the Middle Ages. They are about a cathedral being built and repaired (respectively). And they're riveting.

The plotting is magnificent. Each scene starts out with a feeling of dread (Ex. The little boys flocked to the hanging). The scene's beginning becomes its middle when the central problem is introduced (Ex. A pregnant girl has also come to watch the hanging-- of her noble lover).

The middle of each scene is a series of twists and turns as various schemes play out. Finally, a scheme is either beneficial for each of the scene's parties, or the POV character has run out of options-- that's the climax.

And at the end of each scene the POV character has:
1. a defeat or triumph
2. a new resolution for what to do
3. an emotional change

Once the scene has climaxed, it ends IMMEDIATELY. There are a couple lines of white space, and POP we're in another scene (once again, filled with dread).

The books have momentum out of this world; they're *never* dull, I *always* want to read on. The masterful plotting is part of it (and imagine: these are books in which not much actually happens. The characters are peasants or children or monks, who generally lead quiet lives). Plotting like that takes a lot of skill and a lot of talent.

But ending after a climax doesn't. I resolve to work at Follett-style plot structure, and use Follett-style white space.

if you love something, set it on fire

As I polish my manuscript, I feel myself letting go.

It's not that I don't care about the manuscript's quality, or have lost faith in its characters/story.  It's just-- it is becoming more and more separate from me.  

Sure: it's a bad idea in the best of times to forget the line between work and identity.  But in the midst of slaving away, it's 1. normal 2. necessary, to be consumed.  Certain work requires dedication to the extent that I *must* see the product as an extension of myself-- otherwise, I would never find the time/energy/faith to complete it.

So, now that I've gone through the brainstorming, and outlining, and rough drafting, and re-writing, and am halfway through the polishing: why do I feel a sort of apathy towards the manuscript?  Why am I eager to start a new one?  

Even last month, I missed the manuscript when I had to spend time with other projects.  I would steal moments with it, though it was low on the priority totem pole.

And yesterday while working on a half-polished section, I found myself falling back into love.  I thought: this is a cool story!  these characters are so complex!  the atmosphere is so intense!  the writing is so clean!  (Not to brag-- maybe none of that would be true for anyone else.  But I wrote the book I wanted to write... and reading it now, I'm discovering it's also a book I want to read.)

Still, I feel this space between the manuscript and me.  If no one ever reads it, if it never goes through an editor's hands, and I never slog through draft fifty.... well, I'd be ok with that.  Of course it's not what I want but.... I know there are other books.  

I feel like the manuscript's period of flux and creation is by and large over.  It's ready to meet the world, and I'm ready to let it go.

do you hear the words that are coming out of my mouth

There's always more to pare away.

Hours and hours of editing today, and I'm starting to think I'll never be done.

This is the long, hard slog; the story is finished, the re-writing done. Now all that's left is making the manuscript beautiful.

But everything can always be *more* beautiful, can't it? How do you know when it's lovely enough?

When it stops sounding like speech, and starts sounding like Gertrude Stein. I love the woman, but I don't think an entire book of diamond-sharp sentence fragments would fly. And if you leech all the humanity from a manuscript, why would humans read it? So, I'm polishing until:

1. The action is easy to follow
2. I don't repeat words, and use names as little as possible.
3. The pacing feels right
4. I say all I need to say
5. And no more.

When I've done all I can think of, I make sure I don't have:

1. The same sentence structure too often
2. Too many prepositions
3. Any adverbs
4. Extraneous ANYTHING (sentences and paragraphs, as well as words)

I tend to linger over passages for too long: if it ain't broke... well, I'm no quitter! So, after I've gone through my lists (which usually takes 2-5 days of editing/5-10 pages), I move on-- no exceptions.

Problem is: this week, I'm sending out my first queries. All of which require a writing sample. So I've gone over my first five pages AD NAUSEUM, and-- for once and all-- come to the absolute limit of my abilities. But now I wonder: what about those hundreds of "edited" pages that I haven't given the first five's treatment to?

As Anakin Skywalker would say: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

don't worry, there's MORE work yet (final polish addition)

Cursor hovering over "send"? DON'T CLICK!

Try putting the essay/story/sample into another font, and re-reading it.

Suddenly, it's new again. New, and pathetic.

I was about to send my first five pages to an agent, and happened to re-read them in gmail's font/email format. TERRIBLE.

But now, after another half-week's worth of work, the pages are *much* better.

Something to consider, for that final polish.

Worst of All Possible Worlds

For every chapter/scene/section, I've got to figure out:

Why is CHARACTER X the *worst possible person* to be in this situation?

And no, you don't get to learn about characters by filling out surveys and taking personality tests. GET REAL.

Those things are self-indulgent bullshit.

On the self-indulgent bullshit front, I've started a diary to get into closer touch with my feelings. I find my work too distant, and hope scribbling down each blub of emotion will make it rougher, rawer, and more sensual.

Writing Is Shitting

I can only stay constipated for so long; the words are coming out.

Thing is:
am I going to have to shit in the woods?
In a port-a-potty?
In a nice toilet?

Shitting in the woods is horrible, and ruins a piece of land.

Shitting in a port-a-potty is uncomfortable, but doesn't damage anything.

Shitting in a nice toilet is a satisfying release. And, make that toilet nice enough, and it actually raises a house's value.

KEY:
Woods = no structure, ie diaries, sketches, letters
Port-a-Potty = some structure, ie stories with a central concept but a half-assed outline
Toilet = well-structured, ie well researched and outlined stories

Yes, I'd rather take the time and create a nice toilet to shit in. But if all I've got is the woods.... well, when a girl's got to go, she's got to go.

Dr. Frankanstein Shoulda Outlined

I have a great story concept.

The MC has an unsolvable dilemma. And the story is about his (failed, because my MCs never win) attempt to solve it.

And, back in the dark old days of February or so, I would go straight from my rough 10-beat outline to the page.

But I've done that before, and destroyed a book. In that manuscript, I wondered all over the place until the whole thing collapsed around word 30,000. Writing it was like playing one of those arcade/Chuckie Cheese games where you steer the car all over the road, running it everyplace to collect more tickets (in my case, words).

It was fun at the time.... until it crashed and went KABLOOIE. Then, it felt horrible.

As for the novel I'm polishing now: I'd written another manuscript (over the course of eight months!) that turned out to be the chrysalis for a kick-ass outline.

I had to throw that manuscript away... but three months later, I'd turned the outline I'd built from its ashes into (ta-DA!) a(nother) solid rough draft.

Still, even this manuscript required a lot of revisions. The pacing especially was a *BITCH*.

So, I've tried:

1. SEAT OF THE PANTS, NO CONCEPT (novel manuscript 1- finished eventually, but it was horrible/unreadable) *FAIL*

2. SEAT OF THE PANTS, BUT GOOD CONCEPT (feature script 1- the parts I've got are awesome, but I've only written 30/100 pages... and not for lack of trying) *FAIL*

3. ROUGH OUTLINE, GOOD CONCEPT (novel manuscript 2- couldn't finish. The structure fell apart, and frankly, the writing wasn't any great shakes either) *FAIL*

4. STRONG OUTLINE, GOOD CONCEPT... but NO RESEARCH (novel manuscript 3- finished, and it's pretty good. It's taken a loooooooooooong time to get here, though).

5. STRONG OUTLINE, GOOD CONCEPT, LOTS OF RESEARCH (tv script 1- finished, and it's also pretty good. There are structural polishes I still need to take care of, but I did so much pre-writing that the script came out fast, and re-writing was a breeze. Well, more like a gust. But not the gale-force sh*t of novel manuscript 3).

SO-- I know what works for me:

1. Strong CONCEPT (CHECK)
2. CHARACTERS. Their backgrounds, motives, and goals
3. FIVE ACT rough outline

I. Inciting incident/Problem
II. Easy Solution (fails)
III. Life is HORRIBLE
IV. MC realizes what needs to be done
V. S/he does it!

4. BEAT SHEET/OUTLINE. Roughly comes out to: 1 beat/1K words
5. Polish the outline! I know that polishing an outline sounds rediculous, but in my experience, if the outline is solid, the draft will come easy, and the rewrites even easier. If you're *absolutely* sure your plot twists are shocking/fun/exciting/the best you could possibly do, it leads to--

A FAST AND EASY FIRST DRAFT!

My goal is to be able to concentrate on line-editing in the *second* draft, instead of having to tear the rough draft apart and sew it together...

I think this process will lead to a more streamlined, cohesive, and coherent final product, as well as saving time and stress.

Re: this new novel manuscript, I'm figuring out the characters (early days, I know). Well, I'll keep ya updated. :)

Nerves of Aluminum Foil

Problem:

I'm in a rut.

Solution:

Throw myself out there, and see if anybody can help me get to the next level.  "Anybody" meaning: grad schools, (television) studio fellowships, (book) agents.

So Far:

I turned in my NBC fellowship application on Tuesday, and my ABC/Disney (the biggie-- this is the fellowship that pays, and it's a year long, instead of ten weeks) application yesterday.

My goal was to stick to a deadline and complete/polish my first professional style television script (including brads and card stock and 50 pages of other people's characters talking and acting in ways that makes sense for them AND are interesting to me).  

I'm very proud of myself for doing it, and celebrated last night.  In some ways sending in an application may seem like a small victory, but I think making a goal and achieving it is DEFINITELY worth celebrating :D

My reasons for making this particular goal were:

1.  "Going to Pages"- induced paralysis had set in.  The professional stakes seemed high, and every perfectionist button in my brain was pushed.  But if I didn't apply, I'd have no shot of getting in, and no experience writing television scripts.  So, I decided my goal was: get it done!

I'd been freezing up on my personal statements/autobiography, too, trying to think of this or that *perfect* angle.  But then I realized-- this is art, and an artist's greatest tool is her humanity.  I decided to just be myself-- totally and absolutely myself-- in the essays.

There are a lot of things wrong with me: I'm raw, and young, and still working on the "professional" thing.  BUT, there are a lot of things *right* with me, too: I'm raw, and young, and  happy to experiment, work hard, and learn.  I decided to put myself-- warts AND halo-- out there, and let the fellowship committees decide if I'm right for them.  

2.  Which they would do anyway.  Because: I can't control getting in, and obsessing over things one can't control is the path to brittleness and breakdown.  So, I decided that once the packet left my hands, it was no longer my problem.  If good things come of it being out in the world, all the better-- but in this case, the *journey* was the important part. 

Sure, I can't stop re-thinking everything.  Why are my statements of interest and autobiography so chatty?  Did I explain X plot development enough?  Even though Disney claims they want serialized shows to be current as of July 1, which for me meant up to the season 3 finale..... what if I should have included a "Previously on..." (like Warner Brothers wants)?  

The thing is-- my goal is complete!  The stakes and my control over the outcome are both at zero by now.  I'm going to put the script away for a week, and go back to it in time to send it off for Warner Brothers, hopefully even stronger.  But I'm not going to get down on myself, I'm not going to worry, I'm going to push every negative thought out of my brain, because

I ACCOMPLISHED MY GOAL!!!!! :D  

Which just makes me more confident I can accomplish the next one, too. 

Next Step:

This month, I'm going to send query letters out to agents.  Yes, maybe not a single agent will want to represent me.  Yes, maybe I'll lose the chance to publish this book, despite loving it/slaving away at it.  BUT, once again-- if I don't query agents, I have no chance of publishing.  And if not query now, when?  I'm still polishing, but the re-writing is done, and the story/characters have been set in stone for a while.  

My goals this month are: query 50 agents/get an agent (whichever comes first :D), start another novel I have a fantastic idea for, apply to the Warner Brothers fellowship, and study for the GRE.  

All those goals are within *my* power, and all of those goals will help me feel that even if I'm not climbing out of my rut completely, I'll at least be digging footholds in the walls.