New Book Mania by Gin Mackey

I confess to a fascination with the way writers write books, with the vast differences in approach. I’ve self-published two books, one silly (Suddenly Spying) and one serious (Disappear Our Dead). I’m afraid another is on the way, and there’s no stopping it. Getting ready to write a new book is like a sneeze that’s coming. You know it’s on its way, and you know you better let it, or your head could explode. But unlike a sneeze, in the case of a book, it’s gonna take a lot longer than a nanosecond.

When I feel a new book coming on, a thousand ideas swirl in my head. Another thousand live on the pages of my new book file. I start filling a new book box with columns from newspapers and articles from magazines and various items I think might relate—no matter how loosely—to the idea I have in mind.  

When I go for walks, I stop in random places to write down thoughts. I get acute anxiety when I find I don’t have a pen. When I hurry into a convenience store to buy one, I break into a sweat when they tell me the pens have been moved and they don’t remember quite where. When they finally find them, and I hold one in my hot little hand, I thank them loudly and voluminously. When they stare, I explain I am a writer. They nod sympathetically.

While riding in the car, I don’t turn on the radio; there’s so much noise in my head I wouldn’t be able to hear it anyhow. During this phase I often can be heard mumbling to myself, and people have told me I look cross. But that scowl’s not anger, it’s the confusion that comes with constantly crossing between this world and the fictional one that’s forming.

My office becomes a sea of stickies with cryptic notes, sometimes so cryptic I can’t even figure out what they mean anymore. I found one on my forehead the other day when I looked in the mirror (yes, I’m kidding!). I am in a miasma of information. Nothing makes sense, yet I have to move forward through a hot, smoky blur. I will have to make choices that slam the door on ideas I loved so that others may thrive. Some characters will have to go. I will grieve their loss (no, I’m not kidding!).

I start to write scenelets, scene ideas with a splotch of dialogue in there. I recognize along the way that there are scenes I must write. MUST. I am so over-the-top excited about the scenes I must write that I vow to make every scene in this book a scene I MUST write. (I will later break this vow.)

In a way I don’t completely understand, information is being sorted, connections made, acts forming. The time is coming when the words and stars will align (I hope).

On a three-foot by four-foot poster board, I label the left section the setup, the middle section complications, and the right section the resolution. I don’t recall who developed this technique, but I find it very effective. Here’s what happens:

I start putting stickies containing scene phrases on the board, placing them where I think they should go to create the story, but to be honest, it feels pretty random at times. The beauty of it is, I begin to see how the story might come together and begin to see what my characters need to do to get from this sticky to that one. I add stickies and move stickies and the story emerges, the fog lifting and morphing to shimmery sparkles on the midcoast, Maine sea.

Eventually (and I mean that with a capital E), a book is born, like Disappear Our Dead. The picture of the poster board included here shows the final version of stickies for that book.

Psst! Now I’m gonna tell you a secret. Lean in a little closer. That’s right. I’ve heard tell of an author who makes an outline, and writes straight from that, pretty as you please. Just writes a list of the scenes and then writes the scenes, right in order! Of course I’ve heard of Bigfoot, and Nessie of Loch Ness fame too, and I don’t believe in them. But…you never know. Maybe I gave up on the guy with the roly-poly belly and the sleigh too soon, and maybe there is a pot of gold at the end of that rainbow.

For me, the messy process changes from book to book, and there are always some unexpected twists. For Suddenly Spying, I didn’t know how much time I would spend laughing as I wrote. For Disappear Our Dead—a book about loss and grief and learning to live again—I didn’t know how many tears I would shed. While I wrestled with the plot, Disappear Our Dead was teaching me one of the most important lessons I needed to learn as a writer: Leave my heart on the page. And I did.

Has your process changed depending on the book you’re writing? Have any of your books taught you something you hadn’t expected to learn?

Gin Mackey is the author of Disappear Our Dead, featuring home funeral guide and amateur sleuth Abby Tiernan, and Suddenly Spying, a madcap caper. She lives in Owls Head, Maine. Visit Gin at www.ginmackey.com