Showing posts with label Writer's Block. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Writer's Block. Show all posts

Sunday, February 17, 2013

What Happens When You Get Stuck?

I have a confession to make.

I rarely, if ever, have writer's block. I know, right? You're sitting there asking yourself, "What kind of writer are you if you don't get a little blocked up from time to time." Well, let's just say I keep a steady flow going right through the old noggin on a regular basis.

Yep, you could call me regular!

So, back to that question -- How is it that I don't really struggle with any writer's block?

First, let me confess to something else. I do struggle with whether I like my stories or not. I mean, I get the story on the page, let it sit for a while, ruminate about the characters, their needs, their wants, wonder if I've figured out if the story is going in a good direction, but then I take a step back and realize I don't really care for any of what is going on on the page.

How do I change that?

I make sure that I'm always taking notice of what's going on around me, whether it's short articles I come across online, novels I've delved into, or heck, there's been a strange-but-true couple of stories on the nightly news that make me stop what I'm doing and jot them down in my idea book. However you choose to find inspiration for your writing, make sure it keeps that constant flow of information open and running through your mind.

I'd like to share my top five ways of making sure I'm not like E.L. Doctorow staring at a wall (although, Ragtime is now one of those classics everyone wants to read).

RESEARCH

Since my chosen genre is historical, the first thing I do to get my juices flowing is by wondering what was really going on during certain historical periods. My ideas usually come from unwarranted and unneeded research. For instance, for S and Gs, I checked out a documentary on Ellis Island from the library. Sure, it was a little dated, with a much younger Mandy Patinkin narrating the film, but I found it to be incredibly fascinating. And before I knew it, the wheels in my head were turning. And guess what? The whole idea for a new novel metamorphosed out of those four hours I spent with Mr. Patinkin.

But this just doesn't pertain to historical circumstances. When I decided to write about forest fires in the 1940s, I really had to figure out how a forest fire is created, what causes it to burn in a certain direction, and why certain ones are deadlier than others. Did you know that a prairie fire burns a lot faster than a forest fire, and that it's deadlier if one gets stuck in a prairie fire? But through my research I learned an extremely fascinating way to save yourself in one. Who knew?

SCANNING ARTICLES

I'm a little obsessive about this one. When I get online to check email or do a little research, I almost always find myself scanning daily news articles. And I always make sure to bookmark the strange-but-true ones, because I'm never sure what I could use later on.

Here are just a few interesting headlines I've gathered over the past couple of years (I've stuck in one fake headline just to show you how crazy some stories are. Can you figure out the fake?):

  • "Doctor Turned Serial Killer in WWII Paris"
  • "Reformed Skinhead Endures Agony to Remove Tattoos"
  • "Fugates of Kentucky: Skin Bluer than Lake Louise"
  • " 'White' Slaves Used for 1860s Fundraiser Propaganda"
  • "Asian Gunslinger Finally Gets His Name in the History Books"
  • " 'Godmother of Cocaine' Gunned Down in Columbia"
See? You can never go wrong with a good news article!

WRITING A PROLOGUE

Some of you might not agree with me on this one, but I love a good prologue. A good prologue knows how to encompass the flavor of the novel and gives a hint of what's to come. If you already know you're good at writing good openers, then this task should be a breeze.

Think of some sort of action you'd like to see happen at the opening of your novel. You don't necessarily have to have the main character in this scene, but it's always good to see a glimmer of who that person might be. For instance, if your MC is not there physically, then perhaps there's a photo in the room, or someone is pregnant with the MC, or a death has occurred and it has something to do with the MC, etc. Just try to place a little slice of how your main character will be involved with that first scene.

And make it gripping!

TITLES

Have you ever come across a random collection of words and the first thing you think is, "Wow! That would make a great title!" I've had those moments. Actually, my research usually coincides with the title. Going back to Mandy Patinkin's tour of Ellis Island, out of that documentary, not only did I come up with a new story to write, but the title presented itself to me through vivid description of a certain place on Ellis Island. The first thing I did after the film had finished was to stop by Amazon and search the titles to see if anyone else had published a book under that name. Quite honestly, I was shocked nobody else had, because it makes for a great title. And, of course, I'm not about to give it away! You'll just have to wait until the book gets published! ☺

CREATING THE CHARACTERS

When I was writing my first novel, a movie reel kept playing through my mind with the main character. She was a runaway slave and I kept seeing the back of her, running through the woods, trying desperately to escape her pursuers. I didn't know why, but I really wanted to understand why she was fleeing and who was after her. Why did I care so much about this one girl? And that's how the cycle of the story started for me. I sat down with this character, fleshed her out, visualized where she was going and with whom, and tried very hard to come up with a good ending.

My first ending was a flop.

But I persevered and continued to look into the life of this one person. Eventually I found her, found where she was going, discovered what made her so complicated, and realized I actually liked her even though it took several drafts for me to see all the layers. But that's why starting your story by fleshing out a character can be so rewarding -- you figure out what makes them tick, plus they've been with you on this journey all along.

I hope that, in some small way at least, I was able to encourage you to move on from that place where you feel like you're only staring at a wall. It can be easy for some of us to get stuck, but if you learn little tricks that help you move on and write something that could potentially grow into a fantastic story, then you're time won't feel so wasted.

Are there any ideas you have for getting past writer's block? Or are you a little like me -- so many stories you don't know what to do with them?

Sunday, October 7, 2012

I Have Met the Enemy


When I was in Art School, there was a little red book that was a mandatory reading for all students: Art and Fear by David Bayles and Ted Orland. Surprising as it may seem, I never read it. Back then, I didn’t want to waste my time with theory and ideas; I just wanted to paint. One of my girlfriends got a copy of the book, read it and lent it to me. A few months ago, while organizing my book shelves, I found said book. Inside was a receipt from 03/03/95!! (You may remove your calculators and figure out my age now. And for those of you shaking your heads, I promise to return the book soon!)

But aside from an old receipt, I found something else: understanding and enlightenment. Yes, lovely college professors wherever you might be, I finally read the book!

The beauty of this book is that it’s not just for visual artists. It’s also for musicians, writers and anyone who wants to (or has already) dedicated their life to artmaking. Thus, reading this book at this moment of my life couldn’t have been more timely. I’ve replaced the blank canvas for a blank page and my dirty brush for my handy dandy laptop. But the struggle to succeed in art, the self-doubt and the dry spells are still there—the same jewels that are present in all art forms. Isn’t that nice?

Interestingly, all these problems boil down to the same source: FEAR, our biggest enemy. Fear of failing grants us excuses not to write and/or sabotage our own work. This dreadful emotion can manifest itself in a variety of ways:

1. Being too busy 

By mentioning a list of all the activities we must get done every day, we prove that we really have no time to write. But honestly, if we really wanted to do it, we would find the time. (After all, we have done it in the past, right?) But writing means making choices and doing so can lead to failing, which we must avoid at all costs (or so we think).

2. Distraction

We set our work aside and find distractions from the blank page. This can take the form of activities as varied as the artists themselves: internet browsing, computer games, television, sports, visiting with friends, and a big etcetera. Of course, at the end of the day we “punish” ourselves for our distraction by calling ourselves lazy or unmotivated. Soon enough, we get so used to the distractions that the novel we were going to write one day becomes a permanent resident in the back of our minds.

3. Irritation

Irritation ranges from being frustrated with the materials (if you’re a visual artist) to discontent with the quality of writing we see in bookshelves to the heartbreaking process of publication, and everything in between. Anger can sometimes propel artists to create. But at other times it can bring us to a halt (who can concentrate when all you want to do is punch the computer screen?)

4. Questioning our talent

Another common habit is to put ourselves down. (It’s better than letting others do it.) We have a tendency to look at the finished work of others and determine that our own work will never get there, so we assume they must have something we don’t (aka, innate talent). Even worse, we fear we might be “pretending” to make art whereas the others are “the real thing.” According to Bayles and Orland, the idea that “extraordinary people make art” is a myth. (And I agree with them.) Not every artist, musician or writer is a genius (Mozart is an obvious exception) yet art gets made all the time. Books get published, paintings get sold and buildings get made. Pondering about our own talent or lack-thereof is frankly an unproductive exercise and one that will inevitably lead to uncertainty and self-doubt.

5. Perfectionism

One of the things we struggle with as creators is having to reconcile our initial vision of our work with the actual execution. Very often the final version of our piece is different from what we had originally envisioned (which can sometimes be a wonderful thing). But many times we can only look at its flaws and how it didn’t live up to our expectations. Worse yet, when we’re ready to start a new project, we hesitate to do it because we don’t want to “mess it up.” Like Ansel Adams said:

“To require perfection is to invite paralysis.” (Pg. 30)

As artists, we must come to terms with the fact that our imperfection is “necessary” to produce our artwork.

“To demand perfection is to deny your ordinary (and universal) humanity, as though you would be better off without it. Yet this humanity is the ultimate source of your work; your perfectionism denies you the very thing you need to get your work done. Getting on with your work requires a recognition that perfection itself is (paradoxically) a flawed concept.” (Pg. 31)

The only way to come close to this coveted “perfection” is to produce more work. The book mentions a case where a ceramics class was divided in two groups. One was supposed to work all semester in achieving “quantity,” the second group had to come up with ONE piece of “quality” to get an A. At the end of the semester, the group who achieved quantity produced better quality than the second group, who had been theorizing about perfection the entire semester.

6. Uncertainty

Creating art requires making decisions (and the more decisions you make, the less choices you’ll have). We might start with what materials to use (if you’re a visual artist) or what POV, genre and length would better serve your novel, to other important considerations such as theme, plot and characters (or subject matter for artists). There is an infinite number of decisions that will shape your piece and make it a reality. But this uncertainty can also lead you to inaction.

Sometimes we can’t imagine that successful artists may have experienced our same doubts, but even that apparently perfect piece was at some point a struggle for its maker. Art & Fear mentions that Tolstoy wrote War and Peace eight times and continued proofreading at the printing press.

“The truth is that the piece of art which seems so profoundly right in its finished state may earlier have been only inches or seconds away from total collapse.” (pg. 19)

7. Comparisons

Competition proves positive when it propels us to do our best work, but it can also be devastating if we constantly get the feeling that we lose in comparison to others (be it our peers or established professionals).

According to the book, we should ideally compete with ourselves but not by determining which is our best piece of work, but by understanding the differences and similarities of each one. This understanding will lead us to create an extended body of work where all our pieces (even the “crappy” ones) play a part.

8. Fears about others

How will your work be perceived? Will people understand it? Will they consider it “art” and if so, will they like it?

Many artists need public approval to value their work or themselves, but this is a slippery slope if we consider how subjective taste can be. Like Bayles and Orland say, giving the audience this much power can be dangerous. Artists may find themselves trying to please everyone or compromising their vision of their work in order to “fit.” But not being true to ourselves may lead to unhappiness. Like the book suggests, in the history of art the audience didn’t always “get” what the artist was trying to say. Sometimes it took a whole new generation to grasp new concepts and appreciate them.


In conclusion, understanding that our fears are normal and identifying the particular source of our inaction can help us fight it and move forward. Remember that:

“Quitting is fundamentally different from stopping. The latter happens all the time. Quitting happens once. Quitting means not starting again—and art is all about starting again.” (pg. 10)

I’ll leave you with this final thought:

“You have a choice between giving your work the best shot and risking that it will not make you happy, or not giving it your best shot—and thereby guaranteeing that it will not make you happy.” (pg. 118)

Do you see yourself in any of these behaviors? How do you overcome your fear of failure?

Sunday, June 24, 2012

The Elusive Muse


Eight Places to Find Inspiration When Your Mind Goes Blank

The Inspiration of Saint Matthew (1602) by Caravaggio
More often than not, you start writing a novel because you’ve had an idea brewing for a long time. For months or years, strangers full of problems and interesting situations visit you at all hours of the day and night. Putting them down on paper is the next logical step. At this point “writer’s block” is not a part of your lexicon. But once you’ve completed your first novel (or several drafts of it) and maybe penned down a second one (with its own tail of drafts) you may start running out of ink. Particularly if you’ve been unsuccessful at finding representation or a contract. Perhaps you’ve been lucky enough to sell your work and must produce something new—quickly. How do you go about finding a fresh new idea that engages you enough to invest the time and effort a novel demands? Where is your muse when you need her?

Here are the eight places where I’ve found inspiration when confronted with this dilemma (and some of them are currently helping with my third novel):

1. Family stories

I have yet to meet a family where there are no secrets or conflict. I wrote an entire novel inspired by my mom’s stories growing up in South America in the fifties/early sixties. The perfect setting for my novel came from my dad’s hometown and the music and traditions he loved. Like Stephanie said recently in her Bradbury Chronicles post, writers are natural observers and have an innate curiosity in others people’s lives (please don’t call me a gossiper! I’m just doing research!) I think this curiosity translates to others because, very often, people confide in me their problems with their families and spouses. I happily lend an ear and store this information for future use in my fiction.

2. Talk shows

I know. You’re smirking and rolling your eyes as you read this. But don’t be so quick to brand all TV shows as trash. That apparently trivial and sensationalistic venue sometimes offers hidden jewels for writers. Just recently, the solution for a writing dilemma came to me through my favorite Spanish talk show Quien Tiene la Razon (Who is Right?), a show hosted by Dr. Nancy Alvarez, a charming Dominican psychologist and sexologist who helps people fix their marriages and family feuds with well thought-out advice and humor.

3. Cop stories

Being married to a cop, I have a fresh supply of dramatic stories and conflict. I also have a free advisor when it comes to realistic action scenes, police procedures and trials. My advice? Befriend a cop or detective and invite him for dinner and drinks!

4. Dreams

We are fascinated by our dreams. Surely everyone has been intrigued by a dream at some point and even wished it were real. The opposite is true, too. Sometimes waking up from a nightmare is a relief. I don’t know about the rest of you, but many times I’ve dreamt of strangers in intriguing situations (or myself in an alternative life) and I’m frustrated when I wake up. I want to know what happens next! Sometimes it’s just a scene or an image. Other times it’s a sequence of scenes. Ever experienced this? Well, I recommend you write them down as quickly as possible (dreams are more elusive than muses and fade away pretty quickly!) Don’t be surprised, though, if when reading these ideas years later, you don’t remember what was so compelling about that dream in the first place. However, you never know when a seed may germinate.

5. Other works of fiction

Your favorite works of literature can inspire you. (“I’d love to write a story like that!”) The fiction that you despise can also help you. (“That book sucked. If it was up to me, I would change this and that.”) The more you think about ways to fix a book, the more it becomes independent from its original source and before you know it, voila! You’ve created a new story. Song lyrics (especially the ones that tell a story) can also be stimulating. When uninspired, look for books and films of genres you enjoy for inspiration. How would you make that story better?

6. Earlier ideas

Recycling is not limited to plastic and paper. All the darlings you’ve killed on previous novels, all the images and bits of information (ok, you can call it gossip) you’ve collected throughout the years can come in handy when you need an idea. Perhaps you had a great concept years ago, but you hadn’t developed the skills to execute it properly. Maybe the time has come to tell that story and it’s just waiting for you to find it.

7. History

History is filled with extraordinary people and dramatic events. If you’re fond of historical fiction, I recommend you to pick a favorite setting and/or time in history and read about it as much as you can. You may be able to find an obscure yet fascinating fact that may get your idea started. This is exactly how I found inspiration for my second novel. I knew I wanted to set it on the Galapagos Islands (I’m from Ecuador and have always been fascinated with the mysteries surrounding the islands). I read as much as I could about the place until I came across a little-known historical fact (or fabrication?) From that tiny bit of information (one paragraph to be precise), an entire plot was born.

8. Fantasies

Do you ever wonder what would have happened if you had studied at a different university, accepted another job or never broken up with your high school sweetheart? What if you had gathered the courage to study abroad? Or what if, like Stephanie proposed in her post, a rash action or failure in your past had produced terrible consequences? Fantasies don’t necessary mean that you must be unhappy with your current life. They can just be mental exercises to get you started, so don’t feel guilty or bad about exploring the “what ifs” in your own life.

What do you do when you run out of steam? Can you share your favorite sources of inspiration?