TL;DR: There is some genius in this theory, and possibly some madness. Every writer should at least understand Dramatica’s four through-lines, its definition of character archetypes, and the two helpful concepts of character resolve and story limit. If you go deeper, prepare to be confused. Continue reading Dramatica: My Take-Aways
I wanted to record for posterity my first experience of “winning” National Novel Writing Month. As you may know, NaNoWriMo is a self-challenge to write 50,000 words in 30 days.
Throughout 2017, I have been tracking my writing statistics (screenshot provided). As you may see from the screenshot, before November, I never got anywhere near 50k words in a single month. So I took NaNoWriMo 2017 as a true challenge to get my word counts up and make some real progress, to prove to myself that I could truly improve both speed and quality.
I always aspired to being an author. In my teens and early twenties, I probably started a half-dozen “first novels” that never got finished (and that was probably for the best). When I started writing software, though, that became my creative outlet, and I stopped writing fiction. I even stopped reading fiction for many years.
In 2015, I decided to pick up that dream once again, and I determined to set myself to finishing a first novel. I dusted off some old ideas, tossed in some new twists, and began putting words down.
And I quickly realized that it wasn’t going to work.
All writers have a process (I’ve heard). Some writers are “discovery” writers or “pantsers,” who begin with a character or situation and discovery the story as they write it, “by the seat of the pants”.
I am not one of these writers. What I learned after ten thousand words or so, was that I needed a structured process. I am an outliner. And my outline was not strong enough to hang the writing on. I got stuck.
So I hung up the dream of finishing my novel during 2015’s NaNoWriMo, and resolved to take a more disciplined approach.
Currently I’m using a process similar to the one I use to create software. I’ve laid down the essential elements as cards in Scrivener: the main themes of the story, key scenes, major events. I arranged the events chronologically, and began to break down the story into acts, chapters, and beats. I’ve heard television writers talk about “breaking” a story in exactly this way to create an episode. That must be a much harder task for television writers, where the acts need to be strictly timed and fairly uniform in size. Fortunately (or unfortunately?) a novelist has a bit more freedom.
As I began to visualize my story outline this way, I discovered major problems. First, a huge amount of the action was bunched up at the beginning. The entire middle was empty of any significant action. And there was no bridge from that empty middle to the resolution.
This is where Scrivener helped me a lot as a tool. Since all my scenes were tucked into these nice index cards, I started to shuffle them. I broke up that tight cluster of cards at the beginning and started to distribute them into the middle chapters. Then, realizing that there was still a huge empty space where the second act was supposed to be, I knew I needed to add a major subplot there to carry it forward.
With a strong outline, the process of actually laying down the words becomes much cleaner for me. I know more or less exactly what it is I need to say, and I can focus on the craft of how to say it. These are two distinct tasks — determining the action, and describing the action — and for me they require two different mindsets. Creating a detailed outline helps me separate them.
This led me to the (re)discovery that building the story and telling the story are two very different things. As a writer, I need to understand the chronology of the entire arc, and the back story, and (in my case) the future story as well. Since I am writing fantasy and building a world, I have history and cultures to flesh out also.
But not all these facts will be revealed directly to the reader. Some things that chronologically happen at the beginning won’t be revealed to the reader until the end (that’s the definition of a mystery, isn’t it?). Some of it is backstory or background color that will be sprinkled into the middle, as characters talk about their past (off-screen) interactions.
I’m finding that, if I’m going to do anything interesting in the telling of the story (mysteries, flashbacks, parallel timelines) I actually need two outlines: one a timeline of events that have happened, for me to keep things straight, and the other an outline of what gets revealed to the reader, the structure of the story. I haven’t really figured out how to do that. Scrivener is great at the story structure part, but it feels clunky using it for the author timeline. I know there are some dedicated timelining tools out there. Maybe I should look into them.
There’s plenty more I haven’t figured out. I know I need to mix character beats with plot beats with world building info-dumps. Currently I’m still “pantsing” that, and I don’t feel like it’s very effective. I would like to be more deliberate about exposing the world building and character stuff in the outline, instead of painting it haphazardly onto the plot as I write. On the other hand, a lot of those things don’t come up until I’m in the character’s head in the moment, and I’m like, wait, she’s writing a letter, but was there even a post office in the middle ages? How DID they deliver the mail? And is she sad, or relieved, that she doesn’t have a husband during this trial?
It took me many years to learn how to build software well. Doubtless, it will take years for me to reach journeyman level in the fiction craft as well.
Something I have been struggling with during the work on my (current) first novel is this: I am very likely producing the worst book I will ever write.
Assuming I finish it — which given past history is not a foregone conclusion — suppose I find the whole thing too exhausting to do again? Having written only one, it would, by default, be the worst one (and the best I suppose). If I go on to write the second, I should have learned much from writing the first, and the writing should improve. Skills are supposed to improve with practice, are they not? So I am destined to look back on this book and recognize how bad it is.
But there’s no getting around that. It was the same thing when I was learning to write computer software. Every six months, I would look back on my code from six months prior, and be disgusted by how bad it was. Most programmers recognize this feeling. It’s how we know we’re getting better. If ever we look back on old code and feel satisfied with it, it’s a sign that we’ve stagnated, and maybe it’s time to look for a different career. Have you considered middle management?
I expect I will find writing the same. I will struggle to do my best with each succeeding story. And every time I look back, I will be sickened at how badly I botched it. But I will be determined to take my lessons learned to make the next one better. And if ever I look back on a story I’ve written and feel fully satisfied with it? That will be the sign that I’m done writing, I guess.