Less Q, More A
Wednesday, November 11. 2009
The problem with just writing and writing and writing—such as one does during NaNoWriMo—is that logic, continuity, and the "big picture" can suffer. I think this is probably an issue with all fiction, but especially so with speculative fiction, such as my current project, Bring Me to Life. There are a large number of design decisions that must be made about a fantasy world, and rather than creating the entire world before starting my narrative, I made it up as I went along. I also needed certain events to happen to further the plot, sometimes without thinking through the motivations of all the characters involved. The steam-train writing approach has led to some decent prose that happens to contain a number of inconsistencies or gaping holes, all of which must be addressed before I can consider the first draft complete.
As I edit and embellish the text I've already written, I continue to come up with questions about the universe I've created and the inhabitants I've peopled it with. Rather than answer these questions immediately when I notice a need, I tend to collect them all into a list for later consideration.
This list has become rather long, and more than a little daunting.
How rare are sonisceors? How rare are daemons? Why did the "Slow Ones" die out, or did they even really? These are setting questions I need to resolve, to better understand why things are happening (or whether it's even logical for them to happen).
Why is this character even in this location? Why is she putting up with rough treatment by another character, instead of just deserting? Why wasn't a shot fired here, why is this character falling for that one, what baggage is this character carrying? Motivations and "off-screen" action are also important, and resulting character behaviors must be consistent (though, one hopes, not predictable).
I'm still extending the list of questions, but just last night I made my first stab at starting to whittle it down somewhat. I'm expanding the thumbnail sketches of major characters that I jotted down last November into full character treatments, complete with life stories, complex motivations, and conditional behaviors. It's not writing as such, it's proto-writing. But once I've built some structure behind the [pretty, but unstable] facade of my text so far, I'll be able to extend the story to a higher level.
Definitely counts as "work," though. And well it should—building a universe is harder than (but just as fun as) writing about it.
Now I understand why authors write sequels—much of the hard work is already done. The universe has been built while writing volume one, all that's needed for the next book is a new conflict / plot. (Hmmm, this is probably also why fanfic is popular, but somewhat looked down upon by "professional" writers; someone else has already done virtually all the world-design work for you!)
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The problem with just writing and writing and writing—such as one does during NaNoWriMo—is that logic, continuity, and the "big picture" can suffer. I think this is probably an issue with all fiction, but especially so with speculative fiction, such as my current project, Bring Me to Life. There are a large number of design decisions that must be made about a fantasy world, and rather than creating the entire world before starting my narrative, I made it up as I went along. I also needed certain events to happen to further the plot, sometimes without thinking through the motivations of all the characters involved. The steam-train writing approach has led to some decent prose that happens to contain a number of inconsistencies or gaping holes, all of which must be addressed before I can consider the first draft complete.
As I edit and embellish the text I've already written, I continue to come up with questions about the universe I've created and the inhabitants I've peopled it with. Rather than answer these questions immediately when I notice a need, I tend to collect them all into a list for later consideration.
This list has become rather long, and more than a little daunting.
How rare are sonisceors? How rare are daemons? Why did the "Slow Ones" die out, or did they even really? These are setting questions I need to resolve, to better understand why things are happening (or whether it's even logical for them to happen).
Why is this character even in this location? Why is she putting up with rough treatment by another character, instead of just deserting? Why wasn't a shot fired here, why is this character falling for that one, what baggage is this character carrying? Motivations and "off-screen" action are also important, and resulting character behaviors must be consistent (though, one hopes, not predictable).
I'm still extending the list of questions, but just last night I made my first stab at starting to whittle it down somewhat. I'm expanding the thumbnail sketches of major characters that I jotted down last November into full character treatments, complete with life stories, complex motivations, and conditional behaviors. It's not writing as such, it's proto-writing. But once I've built some structure behind the [pretty, but unstable] facade of my text so far, I'll be able to extend the story to a higher level.
Definitely counts as "work," though. And well it should—building a universe is harder than (but just as fun as) writing about it.
Now I understand why authors write sequels—much of the hard work is already done. The universe has been built while writing volume one, all that's needed for the next book is a new conflict / plot. (Hmmm, this is probably also why fanfic is popular, but somewhat looked down upon by "professional" writers; someone else has already done virtually all the world-design work for you!)
As I edit and embellish the text I've already written, I continue to come up with questions about the universe I've created and the inhabitants I've peopled it with. Rather than answer these questions immediately when I notice a need, I tend to collect them all into a list for later consideration.
This list has become rather long, and more than a little daunting.
How rare are sonisceors? How rare are daemons? Why did the "Slow Ones" die out, or did they even really? These are setting questions I need to resolve, to better understand why things are happening (or whether it's even logical for them to happen).
Why is this character even in this location? Why is she putting up with rough treatment by another character, instead of just deserting? Why wasn't a shot fired here, why is this character falling for that one, what baggage is this character carrying? Motivations and "off-screen" action are also important, and resulting character behaviors must be consistent (though, one hopes, not predictable).
I'm still extending the list of questions, but just last night I made my first stab at starting to whittle it down somewhat. I'm expanding the thumbnail sketches of major characters that I jotted down last November into full character treatments, complete with life stories, complex motivations, and conditional behaviors. It's not writing as such, it's proto-writing. But once I've built some structure behind the [pretty, but unstable] facade of my text so far, I'll be able to extend the story to a higher level.
Definitely counts as "work," though. And well it should—building a universe is harder than (but just as fun as) writing about it.
Now I understand why authors write sequels—much of the hard work is already done. The universe has been built while writing volume one, all that's needed for the next book is a new conflict / plot. (Hmmm, this is probably also why fanfic is popular, but somewhat looked down upon by "professional" writers; someone else has already done virtually all the world-design work for you!)
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