Blog Without A Name

In which the author fails to outline

So, last night, after work, I broke out a new! yellow pad, drew a black pen and a red pen from stores and retired to the sofa to consider Carousel Seas, Socks sitting as consultant.  Since I’ve now heard from two beta readers to the effect that Carousel Sun makes sense, I feel reasonably confident in moving on with the story.

Now, usually, I work outline-free.  Which is to say, I’ll sketch in some notes, some bits of dialog, some questions that the narrative ought to address,  but that’s pretty much it.  At some point, I’ll feel like I have Enough Stuff to start typing. I type for the first, oh, third of the book, then I read what I have and see what the threads are, and consider where they’re going.  From that point on, I’ll make chapter-going-forward (or scene-going-forward) notes and so on until the thrilling conclusion.  This method is somewhat uncertain, and can become a little hair-raising in the face of serious auctorial illness or a severe bout of depression, but in general it Works for Me.  And, no, it’s probably not how grown-up writers do it.

Having said all that, I will confess that I have worked from an outline once or twice — for values of having produced an outline, which I then threw away when the story took a left turn.  After all, I’m usually under contract for a novel, not an outline, so the outline is, IMNSHO, disposable*.  From these early experiences, I learned that outlines (for me) are pretty much useless.  That scene-sketching, writing bits of dialogue, and being open to SFoG (Sudden Flashes of Genius) is much more useful to what we’ll dignify as My Process.

The trouble with all of this being that, due to mostly having day-jobs during my formative years as a writer, I’ve been pretty much a Night Writer.  Brain turns on at 5:00 p.m. and we’re off to the races.  Early in the day, I’ll edit what I wrote yesterday, and maybe noodle out some notes, but the actual work happens late in the day.  This needs to change, at least somewhat, due to Reasons, and it occurred to me that it might make the transition to Day Writer easier if I had a road map to assist my daylight-shocked brain.

And I sat there on the couch, with my pen poised over the nice, new yellow pad, with Socks, remember, consulting. . .and wrote down the questions left over from the previous book; other things I think need to be addressed, going forward…and flipped the page, thinking, “Outline.  It’s not hard.” . . .and got nowhere and, finally, gave up, because, yanno, how can I outline something that hasn’t happened yet?

*sigh*

This would seem to be a bigger conceptual change than I had thought.

So, writers who read here — outline or no outline?  And!  If outline, how do you outline something that hasn’t happened yet?

—————

*I was at Boskone on a panel with a writer who swore that he produced 130-page outlines.  Which, full disclosure, seems nuts to me.  He then went on to explain that he’d gotten to the point in the current project where he realized that the outline had misled him, and was in the position of having to tear out 9,000 words — or possibly start the book over; it was Sunday afternoon, I was tired, and he was heated — and the deadline was looming.  Which only serves to reinforce my own feelings regarding outlines:  They’re only going to betray you in the end…

Books read in 2013

Shades of Milk and Honey, Mary Robinette Kowal
French Fried, Chris Dolley (e)
My Father’s Dragon, Ruth Stiles Gannett (read aloud w/Steve)
Fair Game, Patricia Briggs (e)
Nymph, Francesca Lia Block (read aloud w/Steve)
Oh, Myyy, George Takei (e)
Hunting Ground, Patricia Briggs (e)
Cry Wolf, Patriacia Briggs (e)
Alpha and Omega, Patricia Briggs (e)
Miss Buncle, Married, D.E. Stevenson (read aloud w/Steve)
Agatha Heterodyne and the Hammerless Bell, Phil & Kaja Foglio
Moonrise Kingdom screenplay, Wes Anderson & Roman Coppola (e)

In which Rolanni lucks out

So, the snowfall called at 8-12 inches came to an overnight splat of 2-ish inches of white rain, which I swept off the steps, and which was already oozing off the cars.  It’s now Actually Raining, and I can live with that.

Steve remains among the walking wounded.  To address this, I made a Big Pot (bigger than I had intended, actually) of chicken-noodle-with-garlic-and-and-veggies soup.  Today’s dinner is baked pork chops.  I think.  (Note to self:  Teach Mozart to cook.)

In other news, only 68 pages left to proof for Constellation One, which I shall commence in to do while waiting for a big project to hit the desk.

Hope everyone is having a pleasant Thursday.

Gonna get a big dish of beef chow mein

Today was far too long.  Also, there were vampires.  It was, in retrospect, Not A Good Day for vampires.

On the plus side, I am now half-way through the galleys for A Liaden Universe® Constellation Volume One.  

We here in Central Maine continue to reside beneath a Winter Storm Warning, starting at 1 p.m. tomorrow, and ending at about 3 p.m. on Thursday, after 8-12 inches of snow have been tastefully deposited on the surrounding countryside.

Maybe I’ll make grilled cheese sammiches for dinner.

Everybody stay warm.

Books read in 2013

French Fried, Chris Dolley (e)
My Father’s Dragon, Ruth Stiles Gannett (read aloud w/Steve)
Fair Game, Patricia Briggs (e)
Nymph, Francesca Lia Block (read aloud w/Steve)
Oh, Myyy, George Takei (e)
Hunting Ground, Patricia Briggs (e)
Cry Wolf, Patriacia Briggs (e)
Alpha and Omega, Patricia Briggs (e)
Miss Buncle, Married, D.E. Stevenson (read aloud w/Steve)
Agatha Heterodyne and the Hammerless Bell, Phil & Kaja Foglio
Moonrise Kingdom screenplay, Wes Anderson & Roman Coppola (e)

Five things and a photo make a post

Oh, let’s see…

1.  Steve got jealous of all of Socks’ Lightning Visits to the vet, so there was nothing for it but that he should have a Lightning Visit to the doctor today.  Where it was discovered that he has arrived home from Boskone with acute bronchitis.  Medications have been prescribed.  Rest has been prescribed.  Below, a picture of Steve resting, at Socks’ insistence.

Resting. Steve and Socks. Photo by Sharon Lee
Resting. Steve and Socks.
Photo by Sharon Lee

2.  I have an appointment with the vampires tomorrow morning.  After which I suspect I will be stopping at the grocery store because…

3.  Winter storm warning for Waterville and environs, starting Wednesday.  Weatherbeans at the moment calling for another 8-12 inches.  Man, I’m going to have upper arms to die for.

4.  I am not yet half-way through the galleys of Liaden Universe® Constellation Volume One.

5.  I provide a link to an article interesting not so much for the description of a kerfuffle in an online forum, but for the discussion of “nice,” and how the concept of same is used as a bullying tactic, a topic of some interest to me.  Since, as advertised elsewhere and often, I am so not nice…

Sunday To-Do

1.  Shovel snow
2.  Finish laundry
3.  Proofread essay for Dragonwriter: A Tribute to Anne McCaffrey and Pern
4.  Pay bills
5.  Shovel snow
6.  Send file to Toni
7.  Cook dinner Steve cooking dinner
8.  Shovel snow
9.  Continue proofreading galleys Liaden Universe® Constellation Volume One
10. Do dishes
11.  Stare out window and think about Carousel Seas
12.  Prep for phone calls tomorrow
13. Shovel snow (opt.)

And like the Mary Ellen Carter, rise again…

Yeah, been listening to folk music again.  It’ll pass.

We’ve been busy here on a very near-end deadline — lots of sticky-tabs involved.  Tomorrow, I have an early doctor’s appointment, and errands in town.  Then, I really ought to get with plotting (for values of “plotting” that includes staring moodily out the window, but does not include creating a 130-page outline) Carousel Seas.

Over on Facebook, this image surfaced:

This is a piece of artwork, somewhere. It came to me with no attribution
This is a piece of artwork, somewhere. It came to me with no attribution The ever-resourceful Pedanther allows me to know that the piece above is entitled “The Long Awaited,” by Patricia Piccinini (http://www.patriciapiccinini.net/works/05Sculptures_2008-2009/)

 

…but it reminded me of a story I read, ‘waaaay back in the Dark Ages, which I believe was by Daphne du Maurier.  Of course, I can’t recall the title.  And of course the fact that I can’t remember the title is making me crazy.  So, I’m throwing this out to y’all, you well-read bunch, you.

The plot of the story as I remember it is:  a woman becomes acquainted with an extremely disagreeable family — mother, sister, and boy in wheelchair. The boy in the wheelchair is beautiful, but there seems to be no one home. The mother mistreats — or at least is not very kind to him. Perhaps the whole cast of characters is vacationing at the seaside. Our viewpoint is infatuated with the boy because of his beauty and wishes to stand between him and his mother’s spite. At some point, it occurs to her that he seems less… lethargic… around water and she takes him down to the sea, whence he escapes his wheelchair.

…that’s all I’ve got.

Anybody recognize this story?

Hope everybody who was in the path of stormy weather over the last couple of days is warm and dry.