Category Archives: Frank Morin

Burst Writing

This is not a new term, but the concept is new to me this year.  In a nutshell, it means writing as much as possible in a concentrated burst, like a sprinter in the 100-yard dash.  You can cover a lot of ground this way really fast.  It’s a lot like the November NaNo challenge, only even more intense.

It’s extremely productive, so why don’t I do it all the time?  Two reasons:

First, it requires setting aside a block of time in which to burst-write.  This is challenging in our hectic lives and limited vacation time.

Second, we need to be prepared.  You can’t sit down at your computer at the beginning of a burst sprint and ask yourself, “Now what should I write about?”  It would be like trying to sprint through a bamboo forest.  You won’t get very far.

A successful burst sprint is the culmination of a great deal of prep work.  Just like an Olympic sprint, which may only take a few seconds, can only be successful after months of preparation by the sprinters.

I have historically written more like a long-distance runner: slow and steady.  Depending on my work schedule, I might get to write once a week for a couple of hours, or not at all.  I’ve pushed myself to write daily, and for a few months this year I managed to do it.

I tried burst-writing this year for the first time.  I set aside a week in March and physically removed myself from all of the normal day-to-day distractions and just write.  For the first time, I’d developed a detailed outline of the story I wanted to write.  I had already written the first few chapters, soI felt like I had the character voices down pretty well, and I had a plan in place.

In one week, I wrote 52,000 words.  See my full blog post about the event here

Major success.  I completed about half of my novel.  I am currently working on the second draft of that same novel.  The burst was the culmination of several months of worldbuilding, brainstorming, planning, and outlining.

Lessons learned from the writing burst:

  1. Plan well.  I did have a pretty good outline, but I hadn’t addressed a few key concepts in the book, and I’ve had to go back in the second draft and revise.
  2. Don’t need an entire week.  Out of that week, I was most productive over a four-day period, averaging over 10,000 words per day.  It was hard to set aside an entire week, but it would be a lot easier to take a weekend and hide away somewhere for two or three days.  I could reasonably expect to complete at least 25,000 words in that timeframe.  That’s pretty good.  Outside of a burst-sprint, it can take weeks or even months to write that much, depending on my schedule.
  3. Don’t edit while writing.  To crank out that many words, you have to trust the plan and let your fingers fly.  Just write and keep pushing through the story.  This is where a weak outline will kill you because if you hit a snag or don’t know what happens next, you’ll totally lose your momentum.

One of the greatest benefits of burst-writing is seeing solid progress in a short period of time.  It’s exciting.  Sometimes the slow, plodding pace I’m forced into can be a little discouraging.  I start wondering if I’m ever going to finish.  Burst sprints help re-vitalize my enthusiasm and keeps me focused on the project.

I am gearing up for another burst-writing session, probably 3 or 4 days in length.  I was hoping to do it in November as part of the NaNo challenge, but the timing didn’t work out.  I’m still editing this story, and my outline of the next novel is only about 70% complete.  I’m hoping for a small burst sprint in December, with a longer one in January.

Until then, I look for one day a week where I can mini-burst:  at least 3 hours of dedicated, focused time.  Sometimes all I get is an hour, but longer periods are so much more productive because I can get in “the zone’ and stay there, cranking out the words.

For me, a two-hour minimum block of time is most productive.   What have other people found works best for them?  Have you tried burst-writing?  Has it worked for you?

Understanding your own Writer’s Block

This is a topic I’ve been thinking about lately, and is similar to the recent post from Kylie on Unleashing the Muse

Although the topics are similar, I’m taking a slightly different approach so hopefully it won’t seem like overkill.

I recently watched the movie “Stranger Than Fiction” with Will Ferrell and Emma Thompson.  If you haven’t seen it, I highly recommend it.  Very funny.  Emma Thompson is a novelist who kills her heroes, and somehow Will Ferrell becomes her next character and can hear her voice as she types and prepares to kill him.  Fascinating concept, moreso for the fact that Emma Thompson can’t quite figure out the right way to kill off Will Ferrell.  She gives a brilliant portrayal of a less-than-stable author suffering from writer’s block.  She goes to some amazing extremes in her attempt to get the right idea.

The following clip shows just how far she’ll go:  to an emergency room to view injured and dying patients to get real-life inspiration.

Stranger Than Fiction clip – Writers Block

As the clip so wonderfully portrays, some writers struggle mightily with writer’s block.

Do you?

What do you do about it?

I don’t suffer from writer’s block very often.  I spend lots of time in the early stages of story creation planning, considering different ideas, and fleshing out exactly what I want to achieve with the scenes, the characters.  Once that basic framework is nailed down, the actual writing of the story is pretty straight-forward.  The big exception is if a new, unexpected idea hits me while I’m writing a scene.

So am I just lucky?  Inspired?  Or do I not push the envelope far enough?

I believe that many times writer’s block is a symptom of one of these deeper problems:

  • Lack of clarity of a story’s mission or concept
  • Lack of understanding of the correct plot framework the story needs to build upon
  • Incomplete worldbuilding
  • Weak or inconsistent conflict
  • Trying to force a story down a direction that just doesn’t work, which the author may understand at an instinctive level, but lacks enough mastery of the craft to consciously identify the shortcoming and therefore begin the process of correction.

When have you run into writer’s block?  Is it at a particular phase in a story every time, or does it happen at random intervals?  How do you find ways around it?

As mentioned in Kylie’s previous post, one approach that often helps is the BIC_HOK (Butt In Chair, Hands On Keyboard) approach:  force yourself to work, to type, to drive yourself into “the zone’.   This actually works for me.  Sometimes playing the right music as I try to get into “the zone’ helps a lot.

Another way to help explore options is playing the “What If?” game.   Back up to the last part that worked in the story before you hit the snag that’s holding you up and start asking “What if?”.  Search for the most surprising, craziest possible twists you could add.  Or look at the scene and consider if anything similar has ever been done before, and then ask “What If?” you took the opposite track?

The worst thing you can do is just give up and say “I’ll write tomorrow.  Maybe I’ll feel like it then.”  ;or blame it on a Muse that just isn’t talking today.

 

Pacing and Scene Selection

Today I want to talk about story pacing.

I’m currently reading one of those books that’s really gotten into my head and I’ve been thinking about why.  The book is Princeps Fury, book 5 of the Jim Butcher’s Codex Alera epic fantasy series.  I’m really enjoying the book and the series, although I need to finish it soon so I can get it out of my head and focus on my own writing.

Two things in particular have jumped out at me while reading this book.  First, it is a big fat epic fantasy, and yet it is paced more like a military thriller:  fast, unrelenting, with constant twists and escalations.  Second, every scene drives the plot forward, escalating the conflict or twisting the plot.  There’s no downtime, no reprieves.

For me it works, even though it’s hard to maintain such a pace for such a long book.  For my wife, it doesn’t.  She prefers stories where there are breaks in the tension, where the action comes more in cycles than in one long, continuous sprint toward the end.  She needs the periodic emotional rest or she finds a story overwhelming.

Different readers have different preferences.  As authors we need to discover what pacing our story requires.  Then we need to deliver it.  Some readers will like it.  Some won’t.  But if the story isn’t paced properly, no one will.

In a thriller or a fast-action story a hard-hitting, constantly escalating pace is required or there’s not enough emotional tension for the author to achieve the sought after experience for the readers.  On the other hand, some stories have different objectives.  Some epic fantasies explore the milieu (the environment, culture, history, and customs of the worlds they’ve created).  That’s fine too.  Many readers love this type of story as long as it doesn’t get too bogged down by all the side-tracks.

The pacing needs to be appropriate or the story dies.  A common mistake that can derail the correct pacing is including the wrong scenes.  Imagine a story like the movie “Die Hard” where, in the middle of the action, the hero John McLane decides to take a hot bath and drink some tea.

Wouldn’t work.

That example’s a bit extreme, but new authors often fall into the trap of including scenes just because they’re the next sequential step in the character’s journey, even if they’re just filler material between the scenes that really matter.  Experienced authors have learned to recognize those filler scenes that do nothing in and of themselves to drive the plot forward in any meaningful way.  They learn to cut those scenes and move on to the next important action.

For authors who do a lot of exploratory writing to “find’ the story, this can be a greater challenge because the very nature of that exploratory writing will result in scenes that are useful to the author but not to the finished work.  In subsequent drafts as the author is paring the story down to its core plot line, those scenes must be removed or they will drag a story down and ruin it.

I’ve learned this the hard way.  In the early drafts of one novel I wrote I included several entire chapters that, although interesting and well written, did next to nothing to drive the plot forward.  It was hard to recognize that they had to go because in a slightly different story they would have been perfectly appropriate.

Just not in the story they happened to be in.

I had to learn to ask the question:  “If I remove this entire scene, will the reader even notice?”  The answer was “No”.  I cut the scenes and no one blinked an eye.

On the other hand, in the same novel, I got a little carried away with trimming the fat and cut an entire POV and all of its related scenes.  Beta readers didn’t know what was missing but they sensed that something was lacking in the story.  I put the scenes back and readers confirmed it filled the gap.

It can be a tricky process, but it is vital.  We as authors need to make sure we understand what emotional journey our readers will be taking as they follow our characters through the torturous adventures we throw them into.  Extraneous scenes need to go.  Scenes that do not deliver the correct tension, pacing, or emotional beat have to go or have to be corrected.

What techniques have you developed for identifying scenes to chop?

Facing Our Fears

One of the top ten fears in the world is the fear of rejection.

For writers, especially new writers, it’s probably in the top two.  Why?  Because we have to face it head on.  There’s no way to avoid it.  It’s an integral part of what we do.  I’m not talking about rejections from agents and/or publishers, although that’s going to happen if you are trying to break into the traditional publishing market.

Today, I’m talking about the rejections we get from readers.

Through our blood, sweat, and tears, we take an idea and craft it out of the void into something tangible, something dear to us.  Then we release it to the world for anyone and everyone to read.  The very nature of this effort produces rejections.  Some people just don’t get it.  Some people are mean spirited.  Some people just don’t like what we write.

And there’s nothing we can do about it.

Writing and reading are very subjective.  There is no way we can please everyone.  Nor should we.

I’ll say it again.  Nor should we.

The best writing polarizes people because it reveals truth or makes a statement.  There will be those who get it, who love it, who are moved by it.  At the same time there will be those who hate it, who revile it, who want to bury it.  There are many reasons for these reactions, but they are inevitable.

So, how do we deal with this?  How do we prepare ourselves to boldly release our work to the world and keep our heads held high despite the inevitable rejections we will receive?

First, accept that rejections and negative feedback will come.  Period.

Second, and this is the hard part, take feedback professionally, not personally.  Writing is intensely personal, as is reading.

Dealing with feedback successfully is not.

Feedback is an opportunity to identify areas for improvement as much as it is a confirmation of existing strengths.  Look beyond the “I liked it” or “This is hog vomit” for the WHY.  We love to hear people say, “That was awesome!”  It’s an ego boost, but it’s just as useless as someone saying, “That was the worst piece of trash I’ve ever read.”  Both responses are purely subjective.  We can’t work with that.  All we can do is smile and say, “Thanks for the feedback.”

It’s when they say WHY that we’ve hit pay dirt.

If someone dislikes a story because my craft was sub-standard, or my descriptions were bland and uninspiring, well maybe they’ve just identified a blind spot where I can improve.  On the other hand, if someone says my action sequences were so powerful they couldn’t put the book down, or if a particular scene drove them to tears; wonderful – I’ve confirmed an existing strength I can leverage in the future.

The why of feedback may provide nuggets of truth.

Or not.

Some people still just don’t get it, or they’re just mean-spirited.  Take all feedback with a big grain of salt.  Judge it on its merits and either learn from it or set it aside.

In the end, you’re the judge that really matters.

This is hard to do, but it’s as necessary a skill as learning to develop powerful characters, craft a valid story arc, or write good dialogue.  If you don’t, you can be crushed by negative feedback.

And remember, you are writing because you love to write.  You hope other people will enjoy your work, but their reactions do not define you.  Keep that in mind, and it will help shield you from the negative criticism that might otherwise beat you down and intimidate you into giving up your writing.

How have you overcome the fear of rejection?