Things are going well. I’m hitting roughly the 1/2 way mark. You know, I’m really jealous of people like Relby and Paul Genesse that are tackling more reasonably sized stories. Sigh. Well, I made my book bed. I suppose I’d better write in it.
I just got to the Big Scene, where the main character Nikandr becomes separated from Atiana, his fiance. The book splits here into two threads, one following Nikandr as he chases down a savant boy with incredible powers to learn exactly how he uses them, the other following Atiana as she begins to learn more about the blight that has struck the islands. It should be interesting.
One thing that I’ve noticed, and I’m wondering what others think, is that I often feel uncomfortable as I’m writing. That is, I feel like I don’t know exactly what’s going to happen and I don’t particularly like not knowing. To clarify, I know the ending and a couple of way points, but little else. Try as I might, I haven’t been able to become an outliner. I thought for sure, with my background in computer science and the type of mind I have (a planner) that outlining would not only come naturally to me but would be a strength. That has oddly never been the case. I think I’m ok with that. I’ve noticed that more and more I like to work on the background, work on the characters, work on the very large, overall framework of the story, and then let the chips fall where they may, following two maxims: tension on every page and (in the words of Michael Swanwick) it’s all entertainment.
Tension on every page is from Don Maass’s Writing the Breakout Novel. What I want, first and foremost, is to create a story that engrosses the reader, that sucks them out of the world they live in and places them securely into mine. And I really do believe that tension on every page is the way to do that. Tension through action. Tension through suspense. Mystery. Sexual tension. Character confusion. Characters not saying what they really mean. Whatever I can use to wring out more tension from the scene.
There are times, though, when there are several paths I could follow to create tension. There are times when other rules seem to conflict too, and that’s when I use the second maxim. This isn’t rocket science; it’s entertainment. And when I have two or more options for a given conundrum, I simply ask which will be more entertaining for the reader. By using those two rules, I’ve gotten through a half a book without too many issues, and I think I’m squeezing as much out of the story as I can while keeping true to my voice and the voice of the story.
Anyway, back to my question. I mentioned that I often feel uncomfortable when I’m writing. It’s a discomfort that comes from not really knowing where the story is headed in the short term. It’s like I’m sailing a boat in the fog. I can hear a fog horn way in the distance, but who knows what sorts of perils lie between my craft and safe land? I could wash up. A sea dragon could eat me. Well, you get the idea. I believe now that writing with a sense of discomfort is a perfectly good thing. In fact, I’m even beginning to suspect that it’s essential, that to write to the best of my ability I need to have that sense of unease. I ought to be worried if I don’t have it. And that’s what I wonder about all my fellow writers. What do you think? Do you feel this way? No? Do you think it’s essential to powerful writing?





Great post, Brad. When I work on my novels (which is rare right now) I have the same uneasy feeling. I always outline the entire book, chapter by chapter, just to give me a clue as to how the story should flow. But inevitably the characters deviate from that outline and it’s like running through the woods at night – I’m always waiting to smack my head on a large branch.
If I make it through the woods without a concussion, I go back and modify my outline with the new trail. Without an outline it is hard for me to see the forest for the trees, if you will.
Yeah, I hear you on the branch thing. I’m mostly worried about taking a wrong path that will cost me dozens or even hundreds of pages. That’s happened to me before. But for me the key is to know the characters and the world well enough. When I started writing I would spend the most time on the plot, and I would (I hate to admit) sort of form the characters to the plot. Now, I spend much more time on the world and the characters than I do the plot so that when I get to a rough patch, I know the underpinnings of my world/characters well enough that *they* sort of tell me the answer.