Writer of Fantasy. Wielder of Red Pens.

365 Days & The Process

WordPress tells me that I started this website a year ago today, which deserves a retrospective of some sort. Lessons learned, if nothing else. Around the same time, I found nother Mike’s suggestion for a “here’s how I do it” post, so I’m combining the two.

First up: Stage fright. Part of why I jumped on Cedar’s More Odds Than Ends challenge was because I was writing again, but wasn’t comfortable with it. The day job required less and less technical writing or editing (at the time) and I was getting twitchy. Writing is, apparently, something I need to do.

But I’d suppressed creative instincts in favor of improving technical writing for nearly two decades. Was I any good? Did it matter, if I was having fun? Was it terrifying to put things out there? Yes. Am I still terrified? Yes, but less so. Did I delay publishing the book for at least two weeks for this reason? Absolutely. Do I get excited every time I have a comment? Ask my husband, who may or may not hear about it. And the big question, would it make me worse at my day job? Turns out, no!

Which leads to: Creativity helps in unexpected ways. Studying craft has helped me articulate ways to train folks in the day job, from editing techniques to writing to poking holes in logic. I’m apparently known as one of the creative ones, who can think outside the box and see connections. So creativity might make me the quirky one at work, but it’s helped far more than I anticipated.

Similarly: Practice helps. Obviously. I’m faster with posts than I used to be. I’ve learned website stuff. Am I good at coming up with different ways to say essentially the same thing over and over again? No. I’m also not good at social media, which I rejoined, or marketing. I’m extremely introverted, and one of those serious types. I have to warn people that when I get excited, I will probably get extremely intense (unless there’s too much coffee involved, in which case I start resembling a hyperactive, bouncing squirrel). But I stress less about being perfect at it, because there’s progress.

That said: More accountability would be good. Even just for myself. The day job pays the bills, and I like it. But I also want to get book two out, and have too many ideas half-plotted to let them go. So it’s a balance between making sure I keep doing well at the day job and pondering whether this writing thing could be a real gig someday. I’m okay if this is prep for a retirement job, but must admit there’s excitement at the idea of writing creatively as a career.

And that said…I need to get more writing done, but if I’m drained enough that the words aren’t flowing, I’m not going to push myself into burnout. Again, balance. Slow and steady. So one of my goals for the next year is to increase the amount I tie in prompts to the universes I’m already working in. Which means I need to have the plots more solidified than they are now, along with less nebulous worldbuilding and character development. I tend to rebel against scheduling my hobbies, so habits are what will save me here.

Finally: There’s so much left to learn.

So with that, onto how I go through prompts. I was hoping to have inspiration hit before I got to this part. C’mon, brain!

Prompt: A plumbing fixture suddenly stops working. On inspection, it turns out the cutoff valve has been turned off, but everyone denies having done so.

  • I tend not to put the prompt up front in the post anymore because it can give away a twist.
  • I don’t know anything about plumbing. I’m honestly not sure research will help me here. But I do know how to weld. Maybe I can work that in?
  • This suggests some sort of mystery or even sabotage.
  • Magical sabotage? (Why?)
  • Can I work this into Peter and June book three? (I was having issues with book two, so I started on three to get the words flowing.) There’s a magically induced blizzard, and the power’s gone out. They’re good, but the emergency radio reports people are missing, and they know it’s not a normal storm. They need more information.
  • So let’s say that June and Peter volunteer to help with the search, even though they’re not natives of New Hampshire and have never done it before.
    • Would they even be allowed to assist? Need to research that. Maybe ask some of the search and rescue folks I know locally, or text some relatives.
  • June and Peter come back from trying to help with the search. They are confused and unhappy. Several people are dead, and at least one child is missing.
    • What’s going after the people?
    • What can they do to make it stop, and preferably go away?
    • Did the creature(s) bring the storm? (Yes.)
    • How do they get more info to figure all of this out before more people are killed?
  • At this low emotional point, uncertain how to help, the water goes out…and that’s when they realize that something is in the house.
    • Cue dramatic music.

I’m pretty sure it’ll change along the way, but that’s the bones of it.

2 Comments

  1. Becky Jones

    Cool. I’m going to have to try to lay it out like that. Academic writing is different in that it’s
    Lit review
    Data
    Analysis
    Findings
    Conclusion/So, what?
    That’s what I’m used to. And, it’s pretty easy plug-and-play.

    Academic Magic Book two is giving me some fits; it’s done, but there are some internal contradictions and missing bits. I think writing out the questions that need to be answered is the way to go.

    • fionagreywrites

      Yeah, work writing is a completely different process from creative writing – problem topic, collect relevant data, request more data, sort/analyze 5Ws, identify key points, what’s likely, discuss plausible alternatives, what’s next, impact/so what. Fiction is more freeing, but plotting has been giving me fits.

      Let me know when you’re ready for a beta reader!

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