The Forest or the Trees?

Confession: I just popped the =+ key off my keyboard accidentally. And this is my work computer. It took five frantic minutes to put it back on.

Reading:

• The Snapper, by Roddy Doyle

Writing:

• "Ferian Fetlock Cures a Horse"

Revising:

• "Dolly Hobbles"

I realized something about my writing style today. I write deductively; that is, I start with the general and move to the specific. I can't visualize doing it any other way, although I've been told, and by people I trust, that it is possible to do it the other way around.

You see, I have to have the big picture before I can even start. That means, for me at least, an outline. For that, I write about one line per scene, with additional notes on important details or plot points that have to be unveiled. Once the outline is done, I read through it, just like a movie director would flip through storyboards to see how the movie will come together. Tweak where necessary and voilà! The first part is done.

What's left is the writing, and that's fun too. I have the bones, but I'm adding the muscles and tendons and little wiggly bits. Once a scene is finished, I check it against the outline to see if I covered what I need to cover, and if not, I go back and adjust. Sounds pretty easy, right? Except sometimes the story takes on a life of its own.

If you've never experienced it, it won't make any sense. I'll try to explain. When you speak, do you have conscious control over every word that comes out of your mouth? Probably not. You've got the thoughts in your head and they come out your mouth, and they get converted into language somewhere in between where we really don't even think about it. The next time you get stopped dead in your tracks because you can't think of a word, you'll know what I mean. It's like a train getting derailed.

Composing, at least for me, is similar. I think less about individual words and more about the flow of the description, or making sure that the words of dialogue that emerge are in the appropriate character's voice. The characters don't know the plot or where it's going, though, and that can cause problems. Suddenly I look up, and their motivations or actions have led them down a different road than I intended, subtly at first, but finally to an extent that my outline is no longer valid.

There are three options for me, here. One is to work the digression into the story. I don't usually have a lot of success with these kinds of detours, though, and it's usually better to go with option two, which is to prune. You figure out where the story diverged and you revise from there.

But sometimes even that doesn't serve. The characters struggle to break free from the bounds you give them, and you have to follow the new path. This is where I freeze. I find that I have to go back, reconceive the story from the beginning, and revise everything to match the new direction before I can proceed. It's what held me up in writing "Illuminated," as well as Floorcraft and ever other novel I've ever attempted.

In fact, "Illuminated" is the first story that has ever survived derailment. I should figure out what I did, and do it again.