I like rules.

There, I said it.

In my seventh grade "I-Search" paper, Do I Want To Be a Writer? (which once upon a time was going to be a Relics post, but I think it might be boring), I read various books about writing as a career and reported the findings. One of the books said that writers were kind of anti-authority, rule-breakers. In my paper, I dutifully mused that this might be a problem for me.

Yeah, I dig rules. And I dig people who dig rules. I find rules to be very freeing, in that as long as you're following 1-6, keeping hands and feet to yourself, raising your hand before you speak, taking the hall pass if you had to use the ladies, sharpening pencils quickly and quietly... you could do whatever you wanted. It's a shame the teachers never caught on and added "7 - Pay attention to the teacher, Katie!"

Working within the boundaries of rules, a child (and now adult) such as myself can successfully beat the system while riding along in its current. Why be the fish out of water? The water keeps you moving.

So, as a writer forming my technique, I came up with Rules. Ahh, sweet rules. Rule 1 - the first draft is crap. Just get it down and then wait six weeks, let one person read it, then make changes as necessary. And the great part is, it worked! Book finished, book improved, book published.

So why is it that now, when I'm still basking in the glow of that sale, I am shaking things up? The WIP is nearly finished. It just needs a resolution. Rulemeister Katie and Little Green Notebook are SO ready to resolve things and get that first draft tucked away for six weeks.

But what's this? Rebellious Hellion Katie (seen here in an undated file photo) isn't obeying the rules. She's not just blissfully ignorant, distracted in that hazy, cop-out way writers get to be. She is BREAKING the rules. She's revising in the first draft. She's changing things and adding scenes and taking things away. And furthermore, the six-week rule is about to get kicked to the curb. Not just ONE person, but TWO, will be taking a gander at this puppy before the paper has even had a chance to unfurl.

And Rebellious Hellion Katie is not sorry. In fact, she looks like she's enjoying herself, which as we all know, is completely unacceptable behavior for a writer.

What's the moral?

Seasons change, people change, yeah? I guess you have to go with what works.

PS - that second photo is notable because I spent the entire evening with one pant leg rolled up and never noticed.

On murdering one's darlings.

Confucius say: People who leave yesterday's coffee mugs on desk sometimes take grody drink of yesterday's coffee.

In high school, one of my teachers taught us this phrase. The fact that for years I went around misquoting it as "kill your babies" is neither here nor there.

I still have about 4,000 words of resolution to go in my WIP. And the way the climax turned out has given me a bunch of tiny tasks, mostly maintenance for one character in particular, and a bolstering of one subplot.

Standing now at third base and preparing to make the run for home, I scan the field and see that something is wrong.

Somebody has to go.

"But HER?" Little Green Notebook asks. "Surely you don't mean HER! We love her!"

We do love her.

"She has a purpose!" LGN squeaks.

I know she does. But I'm starting to feel that her purpose would be better served by another character.

"You're going to lose that awesome joke about the dogs."

That's true.

The notebook hides under a coffee mug while I think about it.

I made a list of pros and cons. The pros outnumbered the cons. How is that supposed to work, anyway? Does quantity win? Because the numbers are in favor of keeping this character, but my gut tells me she must go.

Early in my TV career, I worked on the best development team ever. Because there was so much trust built into the team, you were pretty much free to say anything and believe that it would be received openly. That team taught me two things: (1) the story is the king, and (2) if it doesn't work, cut it. No matter how much you love it.

I love this character, but I suspect she exists more for me than for the story.

Perhaps I should let the husband read before I haul out the excavator and start removing large chunks of storyline (see, and that's the thing -- she's outside the storyline -- and that's how I know she has to skedaddle).

Bargaining

I'm at 58,638 words. 1500 of those are from tonight, which is good. I didn't write yesterday, but that bit about my conversation with Little Green Notebook is actually pretty close to how I spent my time. I mean, people are coming out of the woodwork to kill/save my protag. I guess that's what you get when you call a book "Seven Sisters".

I missed a party tonight, but the writing means this evening is not a wash.

Although I am having a Mighty Struggle with myself, and it goes something like this:

Every 250 words, go make three quilt squares and deal with the laundry.

The problem (maybe it isn't a problem) is that after the first break, I just kept writing. So now do I go make three quilt squares, or 15 quilt squares, or am I off-duty for the night? Have I earned my way out of this evening's writing cage (written my way out of the proverbial paper bag)?

I will say that since the middle section is finished (first draft finished), the writing now feels more like a sprint than a marathon, and that is A-OK with me. Suddenly things are tumbling into place.

Maybe this thing won't hit 70,000 words on its first draft.

I think my drafts of "The Girl Least Likely" went like this: 1st: 55,000 words; 2nd: 80,000 words; 3rd: 91,000 words (yikes is right -- we're talking YA here); 4th: 81,000 words; 5th: 78,000 words; 6th: 70,000 words.

So now my brain has adopted 70k as the acceptable goal. But I guess no one would collapse into a sobbing heap if it went a little ways one direction or the other from there.

All right, off to do quilt squares and get another glass of water.

The bargaining chips of life... what are yours?


Comments from original posting:

MrsDubois said...
I never keep bargains with myself. I'm a total lax gatekeeper. I'll be like "OK, so you have to do the bathroom, but you can do another page or two." and then five pages later, I'm all "Hey! You fooled me! You're such a stinker!" and I let myself go on.
I have no discipline. None at all.
8:58 AM

Katie said...
Oh, but let the bathroom go! Keep writing!
I have to bargain to get myself to sit down and write. You would never know by watching my work process that this is a career I chose for myself. You'd be like, "What horrible person is forcing that poor girl to torture herself with all that writing?"
I blame Little Green Notebook.
9:01 AM

Christy said...
Bargaining doesn't work for me. I have to put off everything until there is so much work that I could have a heart attack looking at it. Then in an awesome combination of self-loathing and general kick-assness, I get it all finished in a frenetic display of activity. And then I go back to slacking again.
10:50 AM

Mia King said...
I am definitely a carrot-on-a-stick kind of writer. If I do this (write 1,000 words, finish a page, finish a chapter), I get something, usually chocolate. For some reason dangling a potential future advance just doesn't do the trick - I need instant gratification. Lately I've been using the Mrs. May's natural cashew clusters to help me slog through a rough patch in my manuscript ... at this stage, I'm all for whatever works to help me meet my deadlines!
4:30 PM

Where did I put that kitchen sink?

Thank heavens I'm forgiving of my first drafts. As my WIP draws near its conclusion, I find myself and the Little Green Notebook spending an awful lot of time together. "What about this guy, Notebook? He showed up in Chapter 3" (before I abandoned keeping track of chapters and started just calling them all "Chapter Break") "and as you can see, I've put a nice little tease for him back here in Chapter Break, so he really needs to come rushing in, guns a-blazin'."

"Ah, yes," says Notebook. "Shall we have him come in now or when they get to the beach?"

"Well, he's a good swimmer. He could show up at the beach looking all hunky. Maybe shirtless."

Notebook flips her pages and sighs. "It's pouring rain outside. There's actually a tropical storm coming ashore at this point," she says.

"Okay, so make a note of that -- shirt."

"Uh oh," Notebook says. "I have something to confess."

"I don't like that tone, Notebook."

"It's just that I have this character called KF rushing in and saving everyone at the beach."

Oh, yeah, her.

"Should I write shirt next to her name?"

I'm so lost in the maze of thoughts in my head I almost miss this, which would be very embarrassing for KF. "What? Yes, please. All females should wear shirts."

"Boring," Notebook mutters, but she makes the note.

"So what if KF and the hunky hero are working together?"

"Great idea!" Notebook dashes off some notes to herself. "And then after the guy we thought was bad saves the protag on the beach, KF and Hunky Hero can come running in and save them again."

"Uh..."

"You know," Notebook says, fluttering her pages. "Like, maybe from a giant land shark."

Hmm. I try to look like I'm considering it.

She tries again: "Or from that bad guy who needs resolution."

"What? Which bad guy?"

"The bad guy who has that girl. And he really should show up, because we need to know what happens to that girl."

Notebook has a point.

"And," Notebook says, "that other girl."

"Notebook, are you making things up again?"

"Of course not," Notebook says. "You made this note yourself: the other girl. The one who made the phone call to that one lady who's going to show up and save the day at the beach."

"Wait, wait, wait." Now this is just getting silly. "What lady? We already have five people lining up to save the day at the beach."

"Yeah, but this one is teased deep." Notebook has clearly been listening in on TV meetings. "You know, from the top of the book."

"Come on, Notebook. Cut me some slack."

"Cut it for yourself!" she says. "It's your book."

"I know it is." I sigh. "Okay. Here's what we're going to do..."

Notebook and I powwow, and a few minutes later, the entire thing is worked out.

"Wow," says Notebook. "That's really beautiful."

"Why thank you," I reply. I admit that I'm pleased with myself. "And you know, this is only a first draft. I can thin some of this stuff out and make the ending even tighter."

"I think that would be a good idea," Notebook answers, blushing. "This seems to be a problem you have on a regular basis. Maybe you should seek professional help."

"Maybe you should seek a recycle bin."

"Now, come on, play fair," she snaps. "I helped you out of this jam. The story is wrapped up like a Christmas gift from me to you."

A little late, I think, but don't say it out loud.

"So we're good?" I sit back in my chair. "I can just start writing now?"

"Go for it, Champ," Notebook says.

"I can't believe we worked it out so neatly."

"Neither can I," Notebook says. "And let me tell you, it's a good thing you decided not to pay off that whole huge thing with those files. I really appreciate your willingness to let that subplot die a few chapter breaks ago with no resolution." She absently ruffles her pages and yawns. "Because you know how much readers love huge plot holes."

"Now hold on," I say. "We can't let the files slide! We have to deal with this."

"Oh, all right. You could have someone go burn down that building."

Wait a second -- Notebooks can come up with ideas? She's been holding out on me. "That could work."

"It just needs to be someone old enough to drive."

"Right."

"I suppose it could be the bad guy. He could do it on his way to the beach!"

"You're brilliant, Notebook!"

She flaps her cover modestly. "Aw, forget about it."

"So..."

"So we're done," she says.

"Done, as in done?"

"Done, done, done."

"So now," I say, opening the file on my computer, "I can write! And there are no strings hanging off the back of my metaphorical dress."

"None," Notebook says.

I set to work. First word: The. Progress already!

"There's just one thing," Notebook says.

I glare at her.

"Don't any of these people ever have to go to the bathroom?"


Comments from original posting:

Holly Kennedy said...
Great blog site! Congrats and good luck with your first novel when it comes out in 2008. All the best from a fellow author.
7:28 PM

MrsDubois said...
Dude. Stop saying you don't have a muse. It's clearly The Green Notebook.
And I really think you owe it to her to give her a name. Seriously.
1:57 AM

Katie said...
Hi, Holly! Thanks!
Amber, oh Lord, maybe you're right! Don't tell her that, though -- she'll ask for a raise.
8:52 AM

Therese: said...
This post made me laugh!
Congratulations on your book deal, Katie. And thanks for stopping by my blog!
I'm intrigued that you write dog shows for TV... What does that entail, exactly?
1:19 PM

Obligatory New Year Post

Happy New Year! Raise your hand if you can believe it's 2007 already. What happened to 2006?

I have high hopes for '07. I was talking to a friend about this at our NYE gathering: I think I'm developing a superstition that my decades all resemble one another. "---3" years (1993, 2003) are all about change and struggle. Harmony comes in "---4". "---5" brings change, but good change. "---6" brings big change and a little bit of angst, which I did experience. "---7"? Well, '97 was a good year. Busy. Productive. I also ran 3 miles a day and weighed 123 pounds and wore a size 3-4.

I could live with that, although I would settle for walking three miles a day and weighing 133 pounds. (Hell, right now I'd settle for... but we won't talk about that.)

Really. Goals ("resolutions" might be a better word -- more customary):

(1) Now that the contract is nearly buttoned up, work with my editor to get "The Girl Least Likely" into publishable shape.

(2) Finish up "7S" -- actually, this first draft should be done by the end of January.

(3) Get a first draft done of "AW" by the end of the year -- now THAT would be something.

(4) Sew some baby quilts for some future babies I know about.

(5) Blah blah be a better person get in shape eat healthier stop tossing bottles of rum off the counter (it was an accident!)...

Hope 2007 brings prosperity and happiness for all of my loyal readers. All five of you.

Mwah!

k.

Where's Santa? I deserve presents!

Three days in a row now I have managed to meet or exceed my goal. Now, this may not seem like a huge deal in general, because you would think that if one does not occasionally have a string of goal-related successes, one will never get a book written or revised, but the truth is that the first draft is a whole different beast.

During the hot and heavy revisionary days for The Girl Least Likely, I was tackling entire sections of the book over the course of a few days. And it was work -- it was work to the point where my brain started feeling all swimmy and all I could think about was Alexis Alexis Alexis, which brings an extra level of challenge to the dog shows, I might add --

But it was not a first draft.

So, appropriately, as today is 12-30, I wrote 1230 words. It doesn't seem like much, but it's a start.

Now we are down in the 16,000-something range, and I'm starting to think two things: (1) 20,000 words to finish (ending up just under 70,000) might have been undercutting it a bit, and (2) I'm going to have to bump up the words per day at some point in the near future.

But for today, meeting my little goal is plenty to get me doing the happy dance.

(reply to Kristy's comment)

Well, Kristy was kind enough to indulge me and ask what AM I working on next, so here it is in the squirreliest of terms:

A YA thriller/romance (surprise! -- get used to those) about a girl from LA who has to deal with the unexpected death of her best friend.

Three ways this book has challenged me:

1. The main character doesn't need me as much as Alexis did (sob!) -- she has a much better developed sense of who she is.
2. It has a deceptively simple mystery underlying it -- which means lots of hiding and hinting and planning ahead.
3. It involves journals and diaries and I've had to learn to work those into the narrative smoothly.

So anyhoo, there you go! That's all I'm saying.

"Writerly things," she said.

The only thing I've been writing lately is the dog show. Which is fine, because I really like the dog show. Which is good, because it's only a week away and I have to work every day to be ready for it. And that part of the equation is a little tiring.

So what have I been doing while not writing?

Thinking hard about some new projects. I should say "new", because one of them ("7S") is 45,000 words strong right now. The other ("AW") is just roughly outlined. And the next one ("FB1") is only the vaguest jumble of characters and circumstances.

Having books lined up for future writing gives me the most wonderful, peaceful feeling. It's kind of like coming home from running errands on a rainy day and having a really excellent book that you're excited to read, just waiting for you. Only different. But seriously, there's something about it -- it's the opposite of a lonely feeling, but it's about writing. And the best part is that the ideas shuffle themselves around, and maybe at some point I'll come up with a strong idea that bumps one from the "Longform - Front Burner" folder to the "Longform - Back Burner" folder, which I think just happened last week with a new idea (the vague jumbly one). I feel like I can go somewhere with it. So I think I'm bumping my old number four ("TR") to the back burner, which is cool, because it's a little looser storyline, and it can simmer back there for a couple of years.

Also:

1. Updating my website. Finally a design that doesn't make the husb run out of the room gagging. For the first time ever.

2. Going out to dinner with friends and coming up with awesome new book ideas such as "Details B. Chapman" and "Dave's Bird-Dad Hike". Also threatening waiters with bodily harm if they touch my wine, and trying in my way to control the husb's behavior, and failing. And reminiscing with said friends about things that happened 8 years ago and realizing that we share all of the exact same memories. Which is a little creepy. Also, talking about Bonobos.

3. Working on the dog show (SURPRISE!).

I didn't go shopping yesterday, Black Friday, but it refreshes some old toy store employee memories. I had such a good time working there during the holidays! What a wonderful group of people that was. What ancient history.

All moved in.

Here we are in our new house. Almost two months here and still just the three pictures on the walls. Well, what can you do?

Winston is good. (I use the word "good" loosely.) He is better and worse than before. The husb had him clipped so he has short hair, excepting the ears and tail. His ears are kind of smelly. You wouldn't believe the acrobatics we go through to get eardrops in this dog. And then he gets mad at us and pouts and tries to rub his ears into the rug.

Work is also good. We're well underway on Portland. Enjoyable, as always, but I'm still looking forward to having some time off in March. Woohoo.

I just thought I should write here before it did actually get to be Valentine's Day. (When clearly I still have a whole week.)

Last night I dreamed I was running the track. I can't run in my dreams. It's consistent -- I don't think I ever have. It's always this agonizing slow-motion thing where I'm just dying to break out. I even tried stretching (in my dreams, I am very flexible). It helped, but I still couldn't get any actual speed. Very frustrating. I wish dream exercise counted.

Okay, going now.

Have written 552 words this week. Goal is 2,000. I think I can make it. But not if I keep goofing off and blogging away my time.


Comment from original posting:

Jacob said...

I was just searching "cant run in my dreams" to see if it was common, or if I was weird. When I was about 16 and ever since, I can run in my dreams. I remember the first dream where I couldn't run. It's like my feet can barely touch the ground. When I was a kid, I remember running in nightmares. I still have nightmares once in a while. And I cannot run away. But I never get caught, unless I give up. I've even grabbed onto moving vehicles to get away. And that worked. Usually when I'm running away, and there's nothing moving to grab onto. I'll try to use my hands, and run on all fours, to try and go faster. It usually works for a few seconds. Well I just thought I'd comment. It seems to be fairly common.

Jacob
Winnipeg, Canada
6:44 PM

Early Wednesday

Headed back to the VO session for Harrisburg, bright and early. Everything went well last night. It was such a relief and a joy at the same time.

I also managed to get about 700 words down in 7S. I'm right at the point where it feels like dragging a one-ton weight, but it will be fine... just keep telling myself that... just keep going. Always time later to fix the idiotic mistakes and terrible choices.

Okay, better go.