Attacking a Scene

This scene, the start of a new chapter, is driving me crazy. Two of my investigators are supposed to be leaving Castelle Escalon on an urgent mission. They believe they are closing in on the guilty party. But Something Will Happen before they can leave. The scary Forces of Order arrive and threaten Partner Two. This is a dangerous risk of exposure, and will introduce a Change of Direction in one of the partners that we will see play out through the end of the book.

You can likely see the trouble here - subtlety. I need the scene dramatic enough to be compelling, and yet its truest consequence must be essentially unrecognizable. Ouch. Why do I DO this to myself? Needless to say, this scene has bugged me for days now. I can't seem to get it right.


So, to begin. They are supposed to be leaving the palace, so Partner One is waiting in the stableyard. Partner Two does not show. The crochety stableman (a very minor character who will appear on occasion throughout the books) is griping at Partner One that he needs to get gone because he is upsetting the horses. Part of the stableman's irritation is that there are "guests'" horses that have been there since before dawn. (Hint, these belong to the above-mentioned Forces of Order who are causing the delayed arrival of Partner Two.) I like this crochety guy. I like the fact that the Forces of Order got here very early. Partner One suspected they were coming, but assumed it would be after he was long gone.

First time through: Partner One is annoyed at the delay and marches inside to roust Partner Two. He finds the Forces of Order already ensconced with Partner Two.

Problem: Logic and inference. The Forces of Order would never question people inside the royal residence (certainly not long enough to cause the dramatic change of direction I plan). They would retrieve offenders or witnesses and take them to their own bailiwick. This is part of the essential balance of power in Sabria. [Same reason police really want to take suspects down to the station and not question them at Mafia headquarters.]

Also I'm totally not sure of how Partner Two is going to react to this, which is a question I'm going to have to resolve sometime, but I don't have enough evidence as yet. How can I understand his motivations and make the reaction real, when I don't see him before or during the action?

Second attempt: Partner One takes repeated trips to the stableyard gate to "see if he's coming" and gets an eyeful of the Forces of Order removing three witnesses from the palace. The witnesses are cloaked and hooded to hide their identity. I really like this custom (invented on the fly!) and so I want to keep it. But the logical consequence is that Partner One can't be sure whether or not Partner Two is one of these three hooded witnesses. He rushes into the palace, finds someone to ask, and gets the story of the "removal."

Problem: all the real action is off screen. The scene comes off as passive. One of the most important people involved is never seen. And, as Partner One is not going to be able to do anything about this "questioning" I've set up a truly boring scene where everything of consequence has already happened or is hidden. Whatever reaction Partner Two has to the event is hearsay.

Much gnashing of teeth here on my part.

Third attempt: Partner One takes repeated trips to the stableyard gate to "see if he's coming" and gets a glimpse of two sentries (from the Forces of Order). Uh-oh. Anxiety - he didn't see this coming so soon - propels him into the palace. (Already I have better emotional context.) He gets into place just as the first of the witnesses has been "hooded" and the second is being rousted...and Partner Two will be next. More anxiety. Partner Two has been delayed by a cordon of Forces of Order, and is fuming. Partner One sneaks/talks his way through the cordon [already more action] and joins Partner Two - so we will see them together "before" the event...and something subtle in Two's behavior after the event will hint at the change I'm trying to enable... Oh yeah, this is much, much better...

I'm off! Third time's the charm and all that.

So why include the stableyard at all, you might say. That seemed to cause all the difficulties. Why not have Partner One see the arrival of the Forces of Order from inside?

Because he just wouldn't be there. His residence is in another part of the palace entirely. To have him in place "just right" to see these happenings from the beginning would be contrived. The two partners would never agree to meet inside the palace as they are supposed to be antagonists, one forced into subordination to the other. Their meeting for the journey would occur at the last possible moment. Character and situational logic - as I have created it - must prevail. Yes, I as the author can force circumstances to make anything happen, but especially when the stakes are high and difficult - getting this event to happen with all its subtleties - I don't want to plant a neon arrow sign outside the door, saying "Look At This! Look at This!"

Maybe I've got it now. I'll keep you posted.

Update: Option three worked out even better than I imagines. Once I got moving on it, instilling more of a sense of danger, the elements came together. I had valuable, revelatory time between the two partners that will contrast marvelously with their later encounters. I was able to examine and instill motivation of Partner 2's reaction to being "hooded," as well as drop in details about the customs surrounding the Forces of Order. And I left something important in Partner 1's hands that ties the action both to previous plot points and future ones. If only it hadn't taken me a WEEK to get this right. This is why I'm slow, folks...

Cheerio!
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That nagging feeling

Sometimes when I write a scene, I get a nagging feeling that something is not right. It most often happens when I have a plot point that I'm ready to include.

Today's example: Character A is in trouble. Character B comes to his rescue and demonstrates something. I want some additional things to happen, some curiosity and doubts about who could have done this amazing thing,building up to the revelation that it was Character B. I write the scene as I envision.

I reread it, tweaking words. I tweak more. OK, I've given Character A too much of a hint that Character B is doing the amazing thing. Why wouldn't he recognize what's going on right away?

What do I do about this?

Make Character A "foggier" from the bad guys' brutality. Reread. Tweak more words. Still feels wrong.

Remove all early hints of Character B's action. I really don't want Character A to seem stupid. Even bashed in the head he wouldn't miss what's going on, which makes my "delay" and building question seem stupid and contrived. Wrong.

So Character A must consider and dismiss the possibility that Character B is doing this. As I begin to rewrite yet again, I realize how convoluted this is getting, and the fact that I have now spent DAYS on this one scene. It Is Not Working.

Time to rethink. I must either skip the intervening build-up to the revelation OR give Character A an ironclad reason for believing it couldn't be Character B.

Oh...oh... The answer comes. The ironclad reason why he won't believe it. And the way that particular misconception plays right in to what the bad guys are trying to do to Character A already... DELICIOUS! One more rewrite and I'll be on my way forward.

Should I have made myself skip over the knot for the time being and continue forward with the story, planning to come back and fix it on another pass? Maybe. But I find I can't progress until it "feels right."

I just can't allow my preconceived ideas of a scene to stand without proper attention to character motivation and a reasonable analysis of "what would he know and when would he know it." Even if it takes three days. What if the solution changes the course of the story?

In this particular case, I don't think it changes anything farther along. But I'll see if things feel right as I get there.

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Retreat!

One of the great pleasures of my writing career has been my discovery of the writers’ retreat. Now you may read of Writers’ Retreats in writing magazines and online. Many of these offer exotic locations, motivational speakers, gourmet food, brainstorming sessions, massages, workshops, or critiquing. Some offer uninterrupted time in fancy locales. Most of these are very expensive.

It works just as well – ok, better – to find a group of serious, motivated writers – your critique group, perhaps, or people you know reasonably well – and set up your own retreat. It can be a LOT less expensive. The idea is to get away from the everyday and focus on writing. Leave the spouse and kids (promising to make it up to them later when you are relaxed, focused, and elated from your writing progress.) Leave the laundry, the phone, (preferably) the internet, the dust on the furniture, and the soccer games behind. The keys to a successful retreat?


1. Location
Find yourself a comfortable location: cabin, lodge, condo. Look into YMCA facilities (you don't have to be Y, M, or C to rent their cabins and such.) Or maybe someone's mother has a lake cabin (as long as it has electricity!) or a timeshare.

Living near the Rocky Mountains, I am fortunate to have a choice of places. One of my groups rents a basic mountainside "housekeeping" cabin at a YMCA family camp that has about 100 cabins scattered over several mountainsides. Every cabin has mountain views and full kitchens and possible elk sightings. (These are not luxury cabins, but clean and functional with heat that works well even in January and fireplaces.) My other group congregates in a funky old hotel in Fairplay, Colorado that has a ghosts (so I hear), a great view, never emptying coffee and teapots, and a very cool sunroom that we take over with tables, surge protectors, extension cords, and laptops.

A site that provides visual inspiration makes a huge difference, plus provides good walks for times when your rear end goes to sleep from sitting too long. You really don't want to have to share the space with non-writing (ie. chatty) other guests.

2. Food
Arrange for good, non-time-intensive meals. My YMCA cabin group splits up the meals – one person cooks Friday dinner, one does Saturday, one does breakfasts. For lunch and snacks we share out whatever we bring, plus tea, coffee, wine, and cookies. We keep it simple but make it good. The others work while cooking is going on, but we all stop and talk and share as we eat.

The hotel in Fairplay provides continental breakfast, afternoon cookies/popcorn/fruit, and, for a special rate, a Saturday night dinner. Everything else is on the economy, which, in Fairplay is limited, but decent, and within walking distance.

3. (and most important) People
Pick the right people. People who want and need to spend the weekend writing. People who don't crack gum, require music (without headphones), or talk too much. People who don't get grouchy when an occasional writing conversation flows from a grammar question or "what is the word for ___ " question or "Eureka! I finished chapter 15!" People who are courteous about taking longer conversations outside, or sharing surge protector outlets or reference books.

You can adjust the activities by mutual consent. If someone gives massages or reads Tarot (and you're into that) or you decide to get together and read what you've written in front of the fire in the evening, that's great. But get these big three right, and you will be amazed at how the energy flows.

(And yes, I finished Chapter 15! Eureka!)

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Waking the Fire

This has been a busy summer. Family business has occupied most of my time since early May. Writing days have been rare and discontinuous, requiring constant restarts, which is just deadly for my development style. It didn't help that I was caught in the deadly middle of the book, the oft-mentioned "it's all crap" stage.

I was beginning to panic. Deadlines don't move, and I'm determined to get this book in on time. I feel as if I used up all my slacker chits on the Lighthouse books - two books instead of one, five months late with the first, a month late with the second. [Yes, Yes, many authors are constantly late, but I'm a good girl, you see.]

I've mentioned some things I've done to restart - rereading, rewriting, rethinking. But last Friday when I sat down to work, I decided I HAD to get moving. I was going to work Friday, Saturday, Sunday, and Monday, all in a row. The blessed spouse took care of several things that would have taken me away - he is the most supportive and generous of companions. And so what did I do?

I had to get reacquainted with the book - approximately 225 pages at present.

#1 - I started again at the beginning. Re-re-worked the new opening to include a couple of possible character "expansions" for my narrator Portier, who is actually the least fleshed out of my three agentes confide. One of the ideas is going to work. The other might be too much of a secret in a story where everyone has secrets. We'll see. I just laid the groundwork that can be easily removed later.

#2 - Spent a whole day with my "Conspiracy File". The biggest problem with a long layoff is losing the plethora of detail and "continuity information" in my head. Usually I maintain this store of info throughout the development of a book. But never have I had this kind of interruption [all good stuff, by the way, except for a few weeks where my mom was sick - thanks to those who were worried!]


What I did with the conspiracy file was to methodically go through my current list of clues, the current evidence against each suspect, the current progress in the revelation of the world's magic, and the current developments in the arc of one particular character of central importance. As I went through these things, I found myself referring more and more to the manuscript. Rewriting bits. Adding in a few bits that I had put in my conspiracy file, but had never gotten into the actual text.

#3 - Picked up a stack of critiqued pages from my writers group. I had not sat down to incorporate [or not] my critiquers' comments in the spring when I was trying very hard to forge ahead in the story to lay down as much as I could before the life disruption. But I felt this was the time, because it took me back into these earlier chapters while looking through alternate eyes. This is the great value of critique partners - forcing yourself to look at your writing through different eyes.

By this morning, I had gotten through all the comments and was sitting in the middle of Chapter 14 - the last full chapter I wrote. And all of a sudden, I found myself jotting down a list of "things that need to happen next" and writing an entirely new paragraph that opens the next scene. My head is full. My fingers are poised. I am anxious to find out what happens next. Hooray!!! Read more of this post!

Verse and Reverse

Wrong turns, wanderings, and reversals are a fact of life when you write like I do, beginning to end, no outline. I love the freedom this kind of writing gives me, and I've talked about how I feel it enhances my own creativity, but there is a price.

I've been creeping through chapter 4 [ok, I've already lopped off a two-page "prelude" that I was never sure of and made my five-page first chapter into the prelude, so this is really the chapter 5 I was worrying with last week.] I've got my three agentes confide into the palace where the nefarious assault took place...and I got Portier into the hoosegow for one night. I met Maura - did I mention I had plans for her? Not just because she hates lies and she is a cool lady and I enjoyed inventing her, but because I woke up two days ago realizing that she and an unnamed character in my proposal were one and the same. Not only do I have plans for her, but I even know what those plans are! [I LOVE it when that happens.] But then I got stuck.

What do you do when you have writers' block? This is one of the most common questions any writer is asked. And the answer is...

A working writer can't afford to be "blocked." You have to keep plugging, keep looking for something to move you forward.

I picked at the stack of books beside my writing chair and read one called "How Did They Do That" or something like, and it was a great overview of significant developments in various topic areas: Law, Medicine, Food, Science, Architecture, etc. Sort of like the science or food timelines you can find on the internet, only less comprehensive, but including cool pictures and diagrams. I found several VERY useful tidbits.

I read an internet piece about bloodletting [actually a Strange Horizons article called Misconceptions About Medieval Medicine]. Very interesting.

I dragged some descriptive phrases about the palace out of my head [this was truly like pulling a toothpick out of a tarpit]. Which led me into inventing a piece of history - this kingdom had long ago been ruled by the Fassid, a very sophisticated, dark-skinned race - think the Moors in Spain. Sabria's art and architecture reflects the confluence of several great civilizations. Fassid influence is especially pervasive in southern Sabria, and this tells me some things about family customs, too. The Fassid withdrew...disappeared...I have yet to figure out whether this is relevant to current Sabrian history, but it gives me some grounding when I'm writing description: is this a Fassid edifice? was it built to imitate Fassid art? was it built to "put down" Fassid art?

I invented a bit more magic - but it wasn't sufficiently "new" to make me feel accomplished.

At last yesterday, I squeezed out enough words so that Maura got Portier out of his overnight confinement and took him to where he was planning to go...and I realized that it was totally the wrong thing. His "plan" - the investigation I had sketched out in my book proposal, Would Not Work! That's why I was having such a difficult time moving forward. The place I was going to put him would not give him sufficient "cover" for making the inquiries he needed to make.

Once I saw this, I also saw where he needed to be. This is one I have to rework before I can move forward. So I backtrack. Remove a few incidental paragraphs that I can easily use later. Reword a few things. And the incident I wrote yesterday will still work, but Portier will now end up in a place he did NOT plan to be, rather than ending up in the place he planned to be all along. Which circumstance promises the most interest? And the payoff line I wrote in triumph last night still works!

"They found another mule*."

* mule, in this case, is not a sterile donkey offspring, but a person who has been repeatedly bled, his or her blood used for... No, No. That would be telling...
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