Who's In Charge?

Well, here I am again, after a long hiatus. Way longer than I wanted it to be, due to events that spiraled away from my grasp once I left my son’s home, where I was visiting and started this blog. Half of it is because I just don’t understand technology, and couldn’t figure out on my own how to log back in to post. The other half is because I’d rather hide my head in the sand instead of facing the unknown and learning how to log in to the dashboard. Mea culpa.

No more. Tonight I’m fired up. From now on, now that I know how to get into my blog (Thank You, Debra!), I will do my darndest to set forth my 1,000 words of semi-wisdom each week. After all, I do have a rep to live up to, right?

It hasn’t been all lilacs and roses, bonbons and relaxation. I now have three (count ‘em, three) suspense books ready to start peddling, plus another that’s beginning to go through the critique process. And a fantasy novel that’s in major rewrite, since a new character popped up after I’d finished it, wouldn’t you know? And I’ve entered and won in a couple of writing contests, too. So, I’ve at least been busy while being silent. But there’s fly in the ointment—or is it a rub? (Thanks, Willie S.) To get my books out I’ve more technology to learn. Rats!

I’ve also been teaching writing classes each week to eight very talented SLO NightWriters members, a group mixed in both sexes and ages. The topic today was, “Who’s In charge?” which is, I suppose, what started this train of thought—and this need to post again. I realized that I haven’t allowed myself to be in charge of my own blog for months!

There are two schools of thought on who is in charge of a story. The first says it’s the writer who is in charge. It’s your story, you are the author. You are the one who decides what happens when, to whom. You devise the plot, you throw in the twists. A good outline will keep you on the right track to the end. 

We’ve all read advice like this from published authors and writing teachers, or taken classes where this view is expounded. It sounds logical. And right. I mean, if the author is the one who has the idea and is doing the writing, he/she has to be in charge, right?

Then what about those writers—like me—whose characters “take over” the story and dictate events? What about writers—like me—who start with the mere inkling of an idea and let the story flow where it will, merely following with pen in hand, a scribe taking dictation along the journey? That’s the second school of thought on who is in charge of a story. It’s the way I work best. I rarely outline more than a chapter or two ahead, because by the time I get there, the characters have taken over and veered the story in another direction.

It happened especially at the end of my novel, Tangled Webs. I wanted a different ending. My female protagonist refused to go there. And I was stuck until I bowed to her wishes.

So, who is in charge of your story? Simple answer: No matter how you work, by outline or instinct, you are in charge. The difference is in the way our brains work. Some need the structure of an outline, a linear progression that takes in all the highlights (and even some semi-lights) along the way. Structure opens their creativity. Others thrive on unexpected twists and surprising turns, allowing their instincts room to find the right path. Unlimited possibilities opens their creativity.

But know this: even when your characters take over a story and tell you what they will and won’t do, you are still in charge. In fact, it’s actually your subconscious taking over and directing the flow, in the guise of the characters. That is why it’s imperative to know your characters thoroughly, even better than you know yourself. When you know your characters to the core, it allows your conscious to step aside and lets the story flow through your subconscious. Instinctive writing.

So, next time you’re stuck, or the words seem to be made of molasses and they just won’t flow, take a step back and ask your characters (your subconscious) what they want to do and see what happens. Trust your instincts. It might be scary at times, but it’s always exciting.

Post total: 770 words

Week total: 770 words

Still needed: 230 words

Running Total: 2,675 Words

A Writer's Strengths

Here I am, still in Buffalo, NY, and it’s raining. Again. I’ve been here almost two full weeks and have seen the sun only four times. I’d forgotten what the rainy season is like here, how leaden the skies can be, how bone-chillingly cold and damp the air. What a turnaround from the first three days of high temperatures and humidity. So far, Buffalo has presented three of its four major weather conditions to remind me why I left, snow being the only holdout.

All this rain has made me wonder about those writing abilities that we’ve either forgotten about or become so inured to that we no longer see them. I believe that once we “forget” (ie, start to take for granted) anything about our writing, we begin to lose touch with our inner essence, that raw voice inside that lends our writing the aura of freshness and authority it needs to rise above all the rest. It’s that part of us — the spirit of who we are as human beings — that keeps readers clamoring for more of what we do best: storytelling.

What is your major strength as a writer? Perhaps it’s the ability to create compelling characters; to devise devilishly twisted plots; to spread open and explain the motivations and desires of humanity; to create vivid, entrancing settings that become characters themselves; to manipulate language in ways that tug at heartstrings or change obstinate minds; to craft witty, dynamic dialogue that captivates readers. If you’re not sure what yours is, think about this: Our greatest strength usually is what comes naturally to us. We do it without thinking, while other aspects of our writing take work and angst to pull off successfully.

The danger is we often don’t value what we do easily, that which comes naturally. It’s just something we do, and so we shrug it off and turn our attention to those aspects of our writing we have to work at. We take classes, go to conferences, join critique groups. We experiment with different writing styles and techniques, seek out the latest trends, chase the elusive dream of publication. And in the learning and critiquing and experimenting, we often work against our greatest writing strength because we have forgotten what it is. In doing so, we lose the essence of who we are as a writer. We dilute our voice.

I urge you now to journey inward to find your strength. Pull it out of you and set it in plain sight, where it can remind you of who you are, where it can inform and infuse every piece of writing you do. Let it become the platform from which you declare to the world, “Here I am. This is me, and I am worth listening to.” Don’t lose your greatest strength to the mists of forgetfulness, like I lost the memory of the gloom and rain that covers my hometown at certain times of the year. To write from the heart, from your core essence, you must know who you are, believe in what you have to say, and trust your voice. 

That voice is mirrored in your greatest strength. Celebrate the view.

Post Total: 530 words

Week 2 Running Total: 530 words