Why Wait? By Kait Carson

 

My third-grade teacher made us write an essay on the topic: Procrastination. The Thief of Time. Had to be a heavy subject for me to remember it all these gazillion years later. If memory serves, the topic rose from a super 8 movie we watched on the subject. Who else remembers the joy of seeing the teacher pulling the shades while the maintenance team wheeled in the projector on its table? Nine times out of ten, the joy was dashed by the flapping sound of a broken film strip. On this particular day in 1960, things worked out. I’m sure I put off writing the essay until the night before it was due. Why? Well, procrastination.

The aim of the movie and the essay was to impress upon our young minds the need to do things in a timely fashion. For the most part, I agree. My favorite phrase is “eat the big frog first.” Do it, put it behind you, get it done. Whew – imagine me wiping my brow. Ah, no one warned me that eating the frog was another term for procrastination. When I’m faced with a task I enjoy, I fill the time eating that danged frog. Need to edit. No worries. One of my favorite parts of writing. I’ll get to it right after I check my email, comment on blogs, write my planner journal… Oh, dang. Look at the time. I don’t have the bandwidth to dig into edits now. Well, I’ll do it tomorrow. See what I mean?

At the end of the day, when I am at my desk, red pencil in hand, time flies. It’s so easy to keep the flow going. I cannot imagine why I delayed starting. I hate to think about stopping. Hands come to a screeching halt. Is that another form of procrastination? Not wanting to stop? I’ll think about that another time.

It took a lot of years and a quickie telephone conference with a friend who is also a practicing psychologist to figure it out. We discarded the first diagnosis—that I don’t feel worthy of the fun. Nope, we’d known each other too long for him to believe that of me. Instead, he pointed out that I behaved like many members of my generation, especially those who attended parochial school. I believe I must earn my fun. Hence, eating that frog. We have the quintessential no pain/no gain philosophy. Was he feeding me pop psych on a spoon to get me off the phone? Maybe. But the statement struck a chord. And it helped me move on.

These days I get to my desk and do the fun stuff first. It makes the rest of the day so much more…fun.

Readers and writers – do you feel you need to pay your dues first? Does it work for you?

The Importance of Yet – A Pep Talk by Molly MacRae

 

Earlier this week my daughter-in-law and I were talking about her latest painting. She paints and draws beautiful, small landscapes and waterscapes (some with exquisite mermaids) that always make me say “Wow!” With this painting, she’s working on a much larger scale. The dimensions are big enough to be daunting, almost paralyzing. That isn’t stopping her, but she’s used to finishing a piece so quickly that it goes from concept to “Wow!” in a day or two. So when she showed me her work in progress, she apologized, saying “It doesn't look like much.” At that point we looked at each other and added the word that sentence needed to finish it properly—yet. It doesn’t look like much yet.

Isn’t that the way so many things start out? Maybe most things. Maybe everything. An acorn doesn’t look like an oak tree. A tiny, red, squalling baby doesn’t look like an astrophysicist. Someone who doesn’t cook might stare into the refrigerator and say (some of them whine) there’s nothing for supper. A cook will see the possibilities and turn them into really good soup.

And think of the projects that reach a point where they look worse than they did to begin with and before they reach the point of looking just right. The horror of cleaning and reorganizing a workspace can be like that. You have to drag things out, move them around, toss them, heap them, and generally make a mess. Why? Because situations are often darkest before the dawn. Because you’re not done yet.

This applies to writing, too. A story or book is nonexistent to begin with. Then it’s in the writer’s head. Then it might be a scrawl on a napkin. And so on and so forth with lots of opportunities to worry that it doesn’t look like much along the way. There are also those times when the work in progress looks absolutely #@%#-ing horrible. Then the writer and the work need time away from each other to cool down (and maybe a good cry, some slashing and burning, a pair of scissors and roll of tape, and a drink) before getting back to the job at hand.

In the crime writing field, the concept of yet is important for our amateur sleuths and detectives to understand, too. There might come a point in their investigation where the villain has the upper hand, there’s no way through the dark, their lives are in jeopardy, and they lose all hope. If you communicate with your protagonists in some way, give them a pep talk. Don’t let them despair (unless you’re writing noir and then despair might be the end goal). Let them know they just haven’t solved the crime yet.  

Readers: What activity, craft, or art do you practice that looks worse before it looks just right?

Adventures in Cooking by Nancy L. Eady

 

When I was in high school, I took home economics for one year. My mother insisted. In fact, she made all three of her daughters take the class in turn, not because of the semester’s worth of cooking lessons, but because of the sewing semester. Her mantra was “if you can read, you can cook.”

Over the years, I have come to find that mantra is (mostly) true, once you consider the vagaries of individual cooking environments, like the toaster oven versus the microwave versus the full-size oven, as long as I avoid the “advanced” features most such appliances are decked out with. Our full-size oven has some convection baking features and timed cooking features that I am careful not to run afoul of. Baking my famous holiday rolls (so-called because I normally only take the time to make them at Thanksgiving and Christmas) at 350 degrees for 20 minutes won’t work if I accidentally use the convection bake setting. I’m still trying to figure out the cooking timer the oven came with; it’s just so much easier to use the “kitchen timer” feature on the microwave.

My minor cooking challenges pale in comparison to my daughter’s. She has decided that she can teach herself to cook without doing any reading whatsoever. My best guess is she is using The Force. For example, she decides she wants to bake a cake. We have enough cookbooks to provide her with the cake recipe of her choice, but instead she goes to the pantry and just starts pulling out ingredients she thinks might go together with abandon. The amazing part of this cooking process is that 40% of the time, she still manages to produce something edible or even better. The other 60% of the time, all she produces is a huge mess in the kitchen that sooner or later I end up cleaning. I’m a chronic rule follower; her process drives me crazy.

Our different approaches remind me of the two main schools of thought when it comes to mystery writing – pantsters v. plotters. Pantsters just start writing and at the end of their novel, often are as surprised as their readers will be to find out who the killer is. Plotsters carefully map out the course they want their novel to take, planning out the culprit, the clues along the way, the red herrings, and the road to take to the finish. Writers tend to see those two methods as mutually exclusive, but they’re not. There are times when a pantster who has written herself into a corner has to stop and plan her way out of the morass, and times when a plotster discovers that her characters have a mind of their own and drag the story off in a completely unexpected direction. As with most processes in life, there are positives and negatives for each method. So my challenge to you today is to vary your writing process up just a little and see where it takes you.

But if you think that means I’m going to invite my daughter into the kitchen any time soon, you have another think coming. At least until she proves to me that she can find the sink, faucet, and dishwasher without my help…

Why I can’t be an outliner

By James M. Jackson

I would save soooo much time if I could successfully outline my novels before I wrote them.

Not for the reasons those who push outlining as the best way to write promote, which include:

·         Not writing until your story structure works means

o   No writing scenes that you later take out

o   No plot holes that you have to later fill

o   No extra characters to eliminate or combine

o   No worries about sagging middles

·         No worrying about blank page syndrome—you know what comes next

·         No worry about writer’s block because you’re only brainstorming until you finish the outline

·         And on and on the benefits go.

I have no doubt those benefits are true and real—but only if you have a brain that can complete the outline. One write-up of the outlining process that uses six steps sounds perfect.[i]

1.     Write down your one-line idea for the novel
2.       Brainstorm the What, Where, Why, Who, and When of the story
3.       Use a book outline framework or template to highlight the key points using your favorite novel structure (Three acts/Hero’s Journey/ etc.)
4.       Create your plot to fit the outline
5.       Add characters
6.       Plug in scenes

And this, they say, is all great fun.

The sad truth about the way my mind works:

Myers-Briggs personality types are determined by where on the spectrum we fit regarding four trait pairs. [ Introverted (I) – Extroverted (E); Sensing (S) – Intuiting (N); Thinking (T) – Feeling (F); and Perceiving (P) – Judging(J) ] I have tested as an INTP, and for this discussion, the components that affect my ability to outline are the N and P.

Considering the J—P spectrum gives a first large hint of my problem.

At a simple level Js prefer a more structured lifestyle, while Ps prefer a more flexible and adaptable lifestyle. And when it comes to making decisions, Js prefer decisions having been made. Ps want to keep sucking in more information and defer decisions as long as possible (and in extremes longer than they should).

An outline is perfect for a J – they can make decisions early and outlining their novel provides obvious structure. Ps don’t want to commit (until they have to) and want the flexibility to change plans if something better turns up.

Outliners point out that their outline is only a guide; they can change it as they go along. That’s true, but to a strong P, that outline feels like a cage. That means the P must overcome innate resistance to benefit from outlining. If that were the only issue, I’d probably be an excellent outliner. For example, in my working days, I was an efficient coder and also terrific at understanding accounting systems—both structured systems.

The S—N spectrum completes the ugly picture

One way of looking at the extremes of this spectrum is that Ss tend to start with the whole and break it down into pieces. They are fact-based and make up about 75% of the population. Ns are more conceptualizers, noting patterns and making connections between disparate ideas.

Starting with the one-line idea for the novel is perfect for an S.

I don’t realize what my novel is really about until I have written the first draft. At that point, I recognize what my unconscious was working on throughout the drafting process. A theme emerges from the steaming pile of a crappy first draft, image patterns become apparent, character motivations become clear.

I suppose if you want to belabor a point, I drafted a poorly written 90,000-word outline that I have to read through to know what to fix in draft 2.

My secret reason why outlining could save me oodles of time should now be clear: I’d give up and not write the novel. No complete first draft, no revisions, no polishing, no book. Lots of free time, though.

Chime in with your comments and let us know how you approach massive projects, like writing a book.

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[i] https://selfpublishing.com/book-outline/

* * * * *

Jim Jackson is a founding member of Writers Who Kill. As James M. Jackson, he authors the Seamus McCree series. Full of mystery and suspense, these domestic thrillers explore financial crimes, family relationships, and what happens when they mix. August 2022 saw publication of the 7^th novel in the series, Granite Oath.

Jim splits his time between the wilds of Michigan’s Upper Peninsula and the city life in Madison, WI. You can find more information about Jim and his books at https://jamesmjackson.com or contact him at jmj@jamesmjackson.com.

 

My Writing Process

My Writing Process by Terry Ambrose

I confess. I’m a plotter. But I wasn’t always that way. In the beginning, I was happy to let the story take me where it would. And then…bam! Disaster struck in the last quarter when I put my protagonist in two places at once. And those places were 150 miles apart. That wouldn’t have been a serious problem—if I had been writing sci-fi or fantasy. But a current-day thriller? Oh yes, serious problem.

Fast-forward to today, and my current process, which is what I did for Lies, Spies, and the Baker’s Surprise. I began the same way I’ve always begun. I wrote a synopsis for each of the five storylines (or arcs) in the book. The most important of those is, of course, the actual mystery. The others include the murder backstory, the love story between the main characters, another about Alexandra “Alex” Atwood growing up, and what I call ‘the treasure story,’ which allows me to add historical elements.

Keeping your sanity while weaving five loosely connected stories together can be a challenge. For

instance, in Lies, Spies, and the Baker’s Surprise, the murder storyline begins with Alex writing in her journal. Alex is the co-protagonist (along with her dad, Rick Atwood). She’s a delight to write because she’s eleven-years-old, has a wild imagination, and loves a mystery. Via Alex’s journal entry, we learn that a young married couple, Henry and Tara Nicholas, have checked into the Seaside Cove Bed & Breakfast. We also learn that Henry has a secret—he’s married, but not to Tara.

There are four characters involved in that one event—Henry, a woman on the phone, Tara, and Alex. After Alex outs Henry to Tara, the tension ramps up. When someone murders Henry, Tara becomes the primary suspect. As the suspect list grows, the timeline becomes very complex and detailed. For Lies, Spies, and the Baker’s Surprise, there were over 200 entries in my timeline. The process can feel very laborious at times, but it helps me make sure I never put a character in two places at the same time again. Unless I decide to write a multidimensional sci-fi thriller. In that case, I’m sure the timeline would be even bigger.

How would you like to win a $35 Amazon gift card? Click here to enter my Book Birthday Contest. Use the bonus code #WritersWhoKill for the “May 21: Writers Who Kill“ entry option and you’ll get three bonus entries!

 

About Terry Ambrose:

Terry has written over twenty novels, several of which have been award finalists. In 2014, his thriller, “Con Game,” won the San Diego Book Awards for Best Action-Thriller. His series include the Trouble in Paradise McKenna Mysteries, the Seaside Cove Bed & Breakfast Mysteries, and the License to Lie thriller series.

The Birth of Word Orienteering by Molly MacRae

I’m a slow writer. Not only do I like to have an outline for a novel or short story, which makes me a plotter, but I’m a plodder. I’m not complaining; the process works for me so I’m reasonably happy with it. 

I’m always on the lookout for smarter or better ways to work, though, and sometimes I dream of working faster. And sometimes I just like shiny new things. 

One of those shiny new things, new to me anyway, is word sprints. Sprints are timed bursts of focused writing that help you grow your word count—twenty minutes, half an hour, an hour of mad typing without distractions = words! 

I can see the merit in this method. The times I’ve sprinted, though, I spent so much time rewriting the sprinted words that I finished the day no farther ahead. I felt anxious, too. Maybe because I’d climbed out of my comfortable rut. Or is it possible I’m not a sprinter? If something I found on the Internet is true, about why sprinting works, then I’m probably not: “What slows you down is thinking through what you’re writing.” Well, rats. For me, part of the fun of writing is thinking it through as I go. 

I’m not irredeemably in a process rut, though. Recently, as I finished the last ten chapters of a book, I tried jogging instead of sprinting. I’d jog one day and walk the next. On jogging days, I expanded my detailed outline of a chapter with quick brushstrokes, convoluted or incomplete sentences, and by leaping over details that didn’t immediately come to mind. On walking days, I revised and polished. On walking days, I looked forward to jogging the next day as a freer form of writing. On jogging days, I looked forward to walking the next day to bring the writing into focus. I loved working like that. It was successful, too, because I turned the manuscript in three days early. Ta da! 

When I was a student at Edinburgh University back in the 70s, a student group I belonged to took part in an orienteering competition. Orienteering is a sport in which participants find their way, on foot, across unfamiliar rough country, often through deep woods, navigating between checkpoints with a map and compass. Fastest group wins. We didn’t win, but can you imagine legging it as fast as you can through a Scottish woodland with only a map and compass? We definitely did not sprint. At best we jogged and climbed and leapt over things. What a blast! We had no time to take in our surroundings, though. Just go, go, go. I would have loved to return the next day to identify the ferns, mosses, bird calls, and trees we’d passed. To smell the leaf mold. To look for squirrels, rabbits, or tiny fungi. Race through one day, walk and bring into focus the next—ideal. 

Word orienteering—the name for my new writing process! On day one, I’ll take my chapter outline (my map and compass) and I’ll dash off through the woods. 

I’ll leap over stumbling points, find my way to each checkpoint, and have the mad fun of going pell-mell. The next day I’ll go back along that raucous route, at a thoughtful stroll, and enjoy recording the details I missed. 

Writers, what new writing methods have you tried? Readers, what sports do you picture your favorite authors participating in?