Always In Touch

(This column is posted at www.StevenSavage.com and Steve’s Tumblr.  Find out more at my newsletter.)

As noted before, I replotted and restarted some of my sequel to A Bridge To The Quiet Planet. There were many reasons from stress to the fact I’m frankly playing above my game – it’s less romp more messed up magical mystery with twists and turns. But these moments teach us plenty of lessons – and here’s another to share.

Lately, life has been chaotic (this has fortunately calmed). This chaos has meant that some days I haven’t been able to write, or I had to take breaks. As I was working on writing and plotting, I observed something interesting.

While working on the novel, starting on anything – from plotting to writing – would be hard to start. In time, though, I would get into it – and I decided to analyze why. I found that taking time meant I “got into” and connected with the work. It wasn’t just unblocking things or getting up to speed – I re-connected intimately with the work.

I also noticed something else. If I were to do these things day after day, it felt more normal – as long as I didn’t pressure myself. “Write X a day” or “you must do this by Monday” didn’t help. I just needed some form of contact with the work.

Finally, I found that there are times one gets deep into a work, be it writing or plotting, that its best to continue. You get into the zone, which means when you start a creative work, it may be best to have buffer time so you can keep going.

I realized when I looked at some of my best works, I keep in touch with them almost every day during their creations. It may be only a few minutes or taking notes, but it works and keeps me in the zone. It kept me in touch.

So ask yourself how you can “keep in touch” with your work. Not something stressful or burdensome, but something that helps you “feel” your work. Maybe you can do something every day, even if it’s only for a few minutes.

Steven Savage

Plots, Pants, And Flows

(This column is posted at www.StevenSavage.com and Steve’s Tumblr.  Find out more at my newsletter.)

Writers have heard this over and over again.

Some people are plotters, detailing out their stories before writing.

Some people are pantsers, charging ahead writing with little or no outline.

Some people are “plantsers” walking a line between both.

Though these are convenient ways to classify writers, they’re limited. These classifications are much like the classic and oft-mocked D&D alignment chart – interesting originally, but restrictive in the end. Are any of us one of the above all the time, in all of our writing?

As of late I’d struggled with my latest novel – I tend to more of a “plotter,” but it hadn’t quite worked for me. At the same time, pantsing or “plantsing” didn’t work for me either. I felt disconnected from my work, my writing lacked an intimacy.

This had rarely happened with my nonfiction work. Indeed, it seemed I could step into that work with ease for the most part. This wasn’t surprising, as I’ve done mostly nonfiction the last decade – a second novel being a challenge presented no surprise.

So as I meandered towards a solution, I decided to replot a troublesome chapter. This suddenly awakened my imagination, that intimate connection with one piece of my work to the exclusion of all else. Everything felt alive.

Then, I took a look at authors I knew with both challenges and lacks of challenges. Those who had trouble with their works had lost a connection with it, from not liking it to fearing audience reaction to not caring. Writers with few troubles felt an intimate connection to their work – it could be love of characters or joy in “mechanizing” a story, but it was intimate.

My rewrite of a single chapter felt more intimate. That told me what I’d been missing – I’d let so many things distract me from my work. Replotting a chapter reconnected me.

Looking at my past works I could see when works had been easy, I had a sense of intimacy and connection. I had made books on potentially boring subjects and had been absolutely enjoying it. I write many worldbooks and those involved a well-polished system, and it’s fun.

So let’s stop thinking about pants, plotting, and “plantsing.” Let’s ask what methods keep us connected to our works and intimate with our goals. Maybe one time we plot, maybe one time we “pants,” and another time we do something else.

If you’re not feeling connected to your work, then it’s time to switch up how you do things. Who knows, you might invent an new way to classify writers we can all misuse . . .

Steven Savage

Deadlines Are Tools

(This column is posted at www.StevenSavage.com and Steve’s Tumblr.  Find out more at my newsletter.)

After an eventful few months, I was trying to keep up on all of my various projects. It was starting to get stressful – one book being published, the next worldbook in progress, and a novel in the works. How could this be stressful, I wondered? I had plans and outlines, and well-thought out deadlines, shouldn’t that make life easier?

Of course the more I examined, the more I realized a few things:

  1. I had my deadlines disrupted by assorted life events and those in the lives of friends and families.
  2. I had reassessed these deadlines during this time and adjusted them, but not given thought to my situation.
  3. Some of the projects with deadlines were ones that were new or experimental. An example would be my second novel – with one under my belt, I’m still perfecting my methods.

After having a discussion with some fellow writers, one suggested taking a break from some projects – just a few days. The more we discussed it, the more I came to a conclusion they were right, but also they’d revealed something else.

I’d used deadlines inappropriately.

I’d chosen deadlines to keep up on my projects, and to keep things under control. They were “realistic” in the way they were estimated using what knowledge I had – they were unrealistic for a trying time and with several experimental projects. This got me thinking about how we use deadlines inappropriately.

We often treat deadlines as unavoidable, sandrosanct, indeed required. Its probably the result of school, of previous industrial cultures, and of a busy time. But having deadlines we often jump to them without asking if they make sense or are even a good idea.

But what good is a deadline? A deadline is a tool- it should help you.

  • A deadline can help you allocate resources, deciding what to do in order to meet a deadline.
  • A deadline can help you coordinate, giving something to someone in time for them to take other action.
  • A deadline can result from trying to figure when you can get something done (and let’s you evaluate if you were right).
  • A deadline can help you prioritize.
  • A deadline can challenge yourself.

Deadlines are useful – but the thing is they’re just a tool. But its not a tool you have to use all the time. Maybe you, like me, are giving yourself deadlines you simply don’t need.

Maybe a project of yours doesnt need a deadline – perhaps its new so all you can do is your best.

Maybe a project of yours is play. It doesn’t matter when its done as long as there’s progress.

You get the idea.

So take a lesson from my experience. Evaluate your deadlines and see if they’re doing any good. There’s a good chance that you’re not using them for the right reasons or using them in a way that helps you.

It’s OK to give up on deadlines sometime, as I found.

Steven Savage