Order, Please!

After writing the Editing Paradox post, I've thought about chronology. A lot. Because I'm not a chronological writer. At all. I do like to use flashbacks, back stories, and the ebb and flow methods of storytelling. Namely because it is the best way to keep telling a story and not resort to several pages of a character explaining a pivotal moment of the past. Even though I have used dialogue to explain things, I also use the sometimes incorrect assumptions of the character that often prove false or even dangerous. Forward moving editing and ebb/flow writing-- these two methods play well together.

I realize while writing UnSung that the fourth book is actually filling up faster than the very bare third, which is cause for concern. Will the third book's theme be unnecessary when the fourth is just so tempting? Right now, it feels unbalanced, but I can also say for certain that most of the best parts of any of my books don't come from the outlines at all. Then again, looking at the first and second books, the second has become a much heavier pursuit. 

I wrote UnNamed thinking I might want a more traditional publishing deal so I made it as light on the word count as possible. While it certainly didn't hurt it, I felt a whole other sense of freedom doing away with the feels of agents or publishers and just writing the story UnSung needs to be. I edit and realize even now that this very epic story grows in word counts little by little. I cut and rearrange but then I'm adding three more paragraphs where I know a connection needs to be made. I'm not crying or feeling like anything is too precious-- I'm brutal, but there's always a little more. As I've said before, this is a story where I don't want the reader to feel any presence is only there for the benefit of the main characters or even the story. If I drag you through it, I need to feel there's a damn good reason to put it there, be it violence, sex, or the unwashed armpits of vendors (I'm not actually writing that, but if it works, you're probably getting a whiff of the world for yourself).

It's the planning, Gods hamlet!, that often throws off the growth, just as much as it helps. Themes are very important to where this story unfolds. It just so happens that right now, so many things are fitting into the far-away fourth. The second book didn't start showing its true colors until the third part of UnNamed and the epilogue leading into it was born. Already, I've begun the epilogue into the third so, by all accounts, I'm ahead of where I was by comparison. Okay, if the numbers game is throwing you off, then let's just say that planning too far ahead just starts to feel like you're building a floor above a floor you haven't built yet. You start to seriously consider if you're going to cramp yourself in. Remember the half floor on Being John Malkovich? Yeah, like that.

Methinks I worry too much because the third book excites me too, maybe because I know its promise. I can plan the fourth all I want, but just like my editing rule stands, I don't touch the actual writing of a future book in a series until I've at least fully drafted the one I'm working on. When I look at my initial notes for UnSung, I have to laugh at how very much I deviated from the maybes and was always glad I did. So let the planning nets get fat with fish-- I can always throw them back.

As long as I've been at this, I still feel like a 'new writer'. I still wonder if I've bitten off more than I can chew; I still end up choking it down and sticking out my tongue to show I've swallowed it too. I'm going to insist on order then pave my room with Post-Its. I will demand order then scramble to redefine order. Life's best decisions aren't always on the menu. I'm making the menu here. 

Doubts are going to be a part of any process. Have you ever gone through a process doubt-free and had a total oh-shit moment because there's no way in hell you didn't make a mess of something somewhere? I often write when I think my writing might be shit because objectively I can take comfort in being right. I don't have the same trepidation I might have when I was absolutely in love with my writing when I wrote it. I cringe at the thought of reading it already so it's never quite as bad as I think it will be. Oh, it's not good, but I'm also not afraid of knocking myself off a pedestal. I was just fully prepared to not treat it as precious so I attacked it as such.

With everything I feel particularly confident about it, I need to make it a bit wobbly. I need to put it to fire against other methods. It's quite possible to make a mess that will be hell to fix. I've definitely made messes of stories that even had to be put aside for years before I'd go after them again, if at all. I certainly don't have a name that makes my shit smell like roses. Yet. But I guarantee that my trials by fire are teaching me how to make my writing bulletproof. It's not the sort of thing that will ever make me feel qualified to tell anyone else how to write. It will not guarantee that every household will have one of my books in it. It's more like finding a tailor that makes my ass look better than a store-made pair of pants ever could. My tailor might not flatter your ass either. Maybe no tailors can and we just learn how to sew our own clothes.

I hate this analogy. My nemesis is a sewing machine. That's why I'm writing books, not making clothes. Can't be good at everything. Drawing, design, crochet, playing instruments, I think I've been given aptitude enough elsewhere. Sewing machines and juggling-- not my strong suits. That fear exists too; oh god, what if I'm one of those American Idol contestants that is tone-deaf and completely delusional about their talent? Well, it's a valid fear. Does a hobby need to be your only calling? Have you sunk years into something and worried that you don't have a marketable skill to show for it? Yeah, it happens. But there are also people that take a 180 on their careers. Hell, some dizzy 540s in there too. Some people do need to gain perspective or even start from square one. 

Heh, and a post about order often defies it. But blogs are a fun place to engage people in a dumping ground of honest thought processes. Regardless of where your journey takes you, back off of your prediction of the 'end game' for all of your pursuits in writing. I haven't yet had one that fit a mold, a big reason that I've found it so important to surrender any expectations. I don't try to eliminate worry, just vocalize it. If I'm struggling with a process, it's a sign I'm still in the game. If I ever became complacent, I'd probably just wander off when it gets difficult. Like I said, it never feels like a proper effort if it's not full of oh-shit moments.