They say . . .

They--meaning practicing writers--say, "Writing is rewriting." And that's where I'm at today. If I didn't know others have gone this way countless times ahead of me, I'd be lost.

What's the process? 

• Identify places where there's lack of clarity or lack of engagement.  Check. Weakness is most pronounced in the set-up of the story world.
  
• Sketch a plan for a new opening sequence that more clearly establishes the problem at the global/story world level. Check. 
  
• Revisit to make sure the scenes are a satisfying dramatic hook and not just expository, situational scenarios. Next to do in my process today.
  
• Flesh out the descriptions. Note to self: In my futuristic setting I can't always rely on the less is more strategy. Here's a case where clarity trumps, so over-describe, then edit for a cleaner, leaner read.
  
• Crisp up the dialog. Note to self: Maintain the snappy personalities and beware the trap of explaining the situation via "natural" conversation, which won't sound natural at all if it explains everything. 
  
• Come back to the sequence tomorrow, edit and continue with a revision of the old opening scene so the two sequences flow.
  

Good thing I love the process.

Dramatic Scenes

Great dramatic scenes all have structure, just as a complete work has.

1. The beginning, what the character wants.
2. The middle, or rising conflict, who or what that gets in the way.
3. The ending, the surprise outcome known as 'the turn.'

The dramatic conflict of the middle seems fairly easy to grasp. Yet, a soft choice for the beginning often leads to a lot of yelling and demands, but not much real drama, and no real chance for the scene to turn. The secret is in defining the goal.

The character's goal at the scene level is a specific objective, achieveable, & measurable. It includes taking positive action.

For clarity's sake, it's wise to state the goal exactly on the nose.

Let me give you an example from personal experience.

A short play I wrote called "Party Girls" was just produced at the Bloomington Playwrights Project. I'd done significant rewrites with the director and the cast during the early rehearsal period, but then didn't see a run through any time in tech rehearsal, trusting that all the basics were in place. The setting is in a side yard of a house where young high schoolers are partying. Opening night I was mortified that there was no sound to establish a sense of space, which meant no crickets, no dance music from the just off-stage party, no ring tone from the girl's cell. No sense of direction, or that the girls were on their way to a party.

Wait a minute. True, the absence of sound was deafening, but I'm ashamed to admit that somewhere in the the rewrites I'd dropped the girls' objective. This pair of teenage girls are on their way to a party, and the entire short is what happens between the edge of the yard and the back door. Nothing's going to stop them. The throughline is very simple, yet very specific. But I'd dropped the ball at the script level. No one in the audience knew where the girls were, where they were going or why. Thankfully, enough bazaar things happen in the first couple of the minutes that energy didn't sag.

Even so, I added two lines (now the fourth and fifth lines of the piece):

Kiki-I didn't even want to come to the party.
Hillary--Well I do. Come on!

The next night, the performance was so much better. Even without the sound design, we all knew exactly what was going on. And when the sounds were there the third night, even better.

TIP: As my friend Jennifer VanSijll says, "clarity trumps."

Finding story ideas

A former student who is gainfully employed as a non-fiction writer wrote to me recently. He said,

"I know I could write a pretty good story, but I can't seem to will myself to start."

My response:

Bottom line: it’s tough to think and create at a keyboard all day and expect ourselves to think and create for fun in all that ‘extra’ time. Your artist self probably wants to dig in the dirt or whittle wood or play rock guitar--anything that uses different motor skills and brain patterns.

So, first give yourself free play time to nurture your artist self and then play with story ideas. (See writer and creativity coach Julia Cameron for how to fill the creativity well.)

There's the time crunch thing, too. At every stage in life we're faced with multiple demands on our time and attention. Students have multiple classes, a job and a social life. Young careerists have credits to build. Parents have kids to feed and chauffeur. So where do we find the time to generate non-paying, speculative fiction?

My solution is to work with small chunks of time a little bit every day. Even when I have "no" time I can always find fifteen minutes to jot down notes and questions to myself. Anything to keep the pump primed. Then on days when I actually have a couple of hours I'm ready to go. The alternative is to wait for long stretches of really productive time, which may never come, and then spend most of that treasured stretch figuring out how to get started again. I hate this second scenario, so I try to stick with the first. To keep the momentum going I write something, anything everyday.

The cool thing about the small chunks approach is that it doesn't take a strong will to make the commitment. Herculean discipline is desirable when it's time to wield a strong arm. Joyful creation loves a light hearted touch.

TIP: Give your creative work first effort of the day. Then go to work for someone else.