Perils of the Writer: Keeping All Those Balls in the Air

As I'm now hip deep into the process of the third Thorn book, I've developed a lot more respect for writers whose subplots "get away from them", as it were.  Because it turns out it's a lot easier for that to happen than I thought.  It's now completely clear to me how, for example, Rowling went from the lean-and-tight Prisoner of Azkhaban to the 800-page beast that was Order of the Phoenix.

Both The Alchemy of Chaos and An Import of Intrigue have bits where minor characters from their respective first books have expanded roles.  Part of this was out of necessity of the plot-- I needed POV characters for a situation where those characters were the best choice.  Part of that comes from enriching the world altogether-- bigger things are happening with the gangs in Aventil, for example, so that means more people and new situations.  

So, the big question: how do I keep that natural growth from getting out of control?  Because as I reworked the outline for Thorn III, it became clear there were things I needed to at least acknowledge that I hadn't planned on before.  Characters who barely existed on the fringes of Thorn now needed a subplot.  How did that happen?  How do I keep that from taking things over and making what should be a lean action-y novel into a doorstopper?

For me, the main thing is pacing: each scene has to have a definitive this-drives-this-part-of-the-plot purpose. If it's not buying me anything, I drop it.  Case in point, in Import, I have a scene where Satrine visits with Sister Alana.  Mostly this is to put a pin in there that Sister Alana still exists and that Satrine has rekindled a friendship with her, because she doesn't really have a role in the plot itself.  But the scene gives character work on Satrine, her frame of mind in the current case, and advances the plotlines of her personal life.  Now, a minor character from Murder who gets bumped up in Import is Corrie, Minox's sister who works the night shift in the Constabulary.  I needed her as a POV character because Things Happen where neither Minox or Satrine are present, and hers was the best fit.  But that meant I couldn't just POV her when I needed her and ignore her at the later. She needed to stay involved throughout.  But, again: it must advance the plot.  I'm not going to check in with characters like Reverend Pemmick or Lieutenant Benvin or Commissioner Enbrain just for the sake of doing it.  

Now, do I succeed with this?  I think most of the time I do.  But that's for you all to judge next year when The Alchemy of Chaos and An Import of Intrigue come out.  

In the mean time, I've got plenty to do in the word-mines, including finalizing aspects of both those manuscripts, so off I go.  See you down there.

Working Up My TED Talk

I always say that one of the best perks of being an author is befriending other authors I love to read. Here's me and the amazing Jennifer Estep at the RT Convention. I have mad love for her assassin heroine Gin and her Elemental Assassin series. And not only because she's up to 14 books in that series. The woman is a powerhouse. Dayum. We got to sit and have a long conversation, which is just my favorite things about conventions - picking each others' brains, hearing other perspectives on both our art and the business.

It's like having a week's worth of intimate TED talks.

I'm fascinated by TED talks and listen to/watch them over the internet from time to time. Which is saying a lot because I really don't like to spend the chunks of time that can require. My days are pretty packed and stuff like that feels like a diversion from the work I need to accomplish. But I also love the concept - "Ideas Worth Spreading" - and some of the talks have really opened my mind. Some favorites are Amanda Palmer's The Art of Asking, Stella Young's incisive breakdown of "Inspiration Porn," Eli Pariser's eye-opening discussion of online "filter bubbles," and Elizabeth Gilbert's wonderful discussion of creative genius.

(Apologies if I just sent you down a rabbit hole of TED talk watching...)

At any rate, I contemplate sometimes what I would say, given the opportunity to give my own TED talk, which is why I suggested this topic for the Bordello. I figured it would make me think about it in a more focused way and I want to hear what the other Word Whores would say.

But when I sat down to write this post, I still didn't have a clear idea. I have about ten-thousand pieces, but not a single, concise thought. Which left me feeling daunted until I realized that's partly what the TED process is about. A colleague of mine - from the day job - did a local one on drinking water. She told me that she worked and reworked her talk with extensive coaching from the TED people. They kept telling her that they didn't really feel her passion for clean drinking water and that it was a revelatory process for her to dig into what that really meant to her.

The point then, I suppose, is that I wouldn't need a perfectly clear concept to begin with. That's how essay-writing always worked for me. I started with a nugget of an idea, a pivotal moment, and explored it. That's how I cemented my process of writing for discovery, no doubt.

I think I'd want to talk about balance, the concept of the middle path. In my bio, I used to say that I'm a fence-sitter - something I later took out because people interpreted that as me being indecisive, neither here nor there, which isn't very accurate. No, by that I mean that I'm a right-down-the-middle person. On most tests, I come out balanced. I'm equally right- and left-brained. My writing voice is equally male and female. I'm neither Type A nor Type B, but an equal measure of both. Though I come out as an INTJ on the Meyers-Briggs test, I'm mildly so on all four parts and could easily tip into the opposite designation.

Which is why it should be no surprise that I'm both a scientist and a writer of romance and fantasy. Once I told my agent a true story that involved me using a pendulum to dowse and how I inadvertently caught the attention of something vengeful and not-quite human. He exclaimed, "My God, Jeffe - you're a scientist!"

Yes, I am.

And as such, I'm a believer in empirical evidence. This is why I double-majored in college, in biology and comparative religious studies (another two-sided aspect) - because I see both sides of the world. That which is material and that which is immaterial.

That is what I'd talk about.

Wouldn't it be fun if I got to, someday?

Order of Precedence

No matter who you are, your work load probably looks a lot like my workload, which looks a bunch like anyone else's workload. We all have obligations and demands on our time. If you participate in society, you still have to do taxes and wash your clothes. Same as everyone else. If you don't do the first one, the laundry you'll end up doing will be orange prison jumpsuits. And this is all assuming you aren't working with chemicals that will melt your sneakers - as I was in the photo below.

If you work for a living, or at something you love, like say writing, you're eventually going to face tight deadlines. Life happens. Unexpected events wreak havoc with even the most ironclad of intentions. Having a routine in place works in your favor. Well exercised self-discipline helps, too.

But if there's one law of the universe, it's this: The more unflappable you believe your system to be, the more crap the universe will throw at you to prove you're wrong.

When that happens, you need a plan to rely on when you're hyperventilating into a paper bag because your book is due tomorrow, the taxes were due yesterday, the kids are screaming, and your sartorial options are 'do laundry' and 'go naked'.

Allow me to introduce you to a short term triage system I use called: 'Order of Precedence.' This is designed to be used when you still have all your regular chores to do, but life has handed you an insanely short deadline, three crises on the day job, and phone call from the school nurse saying your kid just broke a bone. Maybe three. If you go to the ER now, you might beat the ambulance.

Order of Precedence goes like this:

1. Living things first - do the minimum amount of work required to keep life in the living things in your home. At my house, this step is broken down even further: People first, critters second, plants third. Yes. The plants totally count. (What? They clean the air and provide O2.)

2. Order of law - do that which will keep you out of jail. Taxes, licensing vehicles, providing enough clothing that no one gets sent up on indecent exposure charges. To me - that means laundry. To some people I know - it means a quick trip to a store for packages of new undies and socks. Presto. Legal and clean. Ish. Again, you're looking for minimum effort to achieve your end.

3. Recruit help - all is fair in love and war here. You're in crisis. Doesn't matter why. If you live alone, yet the dog MUST go to the vet while you're killing yourself to get that novel about the gunslinging cowboy vampire to your editor by midnight - phone a friend. Swear you'll return the favor somehow AFTER you've met deadline. Understand this might find you helping that friend move. Pick friends who don't have collections of antique refrigerators. The serious aspect of this is consider hiring someone in to clean the house once a week. Or once every other week. It's not forever. It's until the storm has passed. Grocery delivery fits here, too.

4. Forget everything else. So the floor crunches when you walk on it. You'll remedy that. After deadline. Your kids are heard muttering that they're sick of McDonalds? Does your family think you've forgotten the way to the kitchen? So what. You'll fix that after deadline.

The point of this system is to make it through any kind of crunch mode. Even kids understand crunch time, since just about everyone leaves a report to the night before it's due at some point. The system is useful as a last ditch coping mechanism, but that whole minimum effort thing, while freeing up lots of time for meeting deadlines isn't designed for long term use. Minimum effort begins to translate to the other people in your life as: we're not important enough for more than your minimum effort.

And that, my friend is a message you don't want to send. Unless you really, really mean it.