I recently looked over a friend's project. There were some positive and negative points to the project and, as I always do when asked to critique, I focused on the negative (though I do try to do so with an eye toward improvement and not destruction, but that's another blog...in fact there are about a dozen blogs on feedback just waiting to happen). But the one thing that stood out to me was his explanation of the project.
"I want you to know." he said, and then he explained how he had insisted on following a certain method to assure a quality product. And though the product was quality. That's not the issue at hand. I want to address instead, the basic psychological issue that causes us to think that other people care how we do things. I want you all to know that no one cares how you go about your artistic process. They only care about the final product. It may sound harsh, but it's true. Why? Because until there is a final product, then your process is meaningless. You didn't make anything, and so it doesn't matter what you did.
Now I'm not sitting here and trying to say that process doesn't matter. I've got a theatre education background that screams at me every time I even think that. It sits in the back of my mind and tones, "It's the trip that's important!" "The end product doesn't matter as long as you've learned something!" "Everyone is happy and nice and you should invest your money with false smiled strangers!" Well, maybe not the last one.
But that's for students. That's for the artist. The process is only important to people who are A) trying to duplicate your success, or B) learning how to avoid your failure.
If you have an audience, or if you want to make money, then the end product IS what matters.
This whole situation reminds me of the first play that I wrote. I finagled my way into having it produced at a local community theatre and I thought I was on top of the world. I still think the play was good, but it was a first play. And when a writer for a local newspaper contacted me asking about myself I gave him an autobiography. I didn't realize then that people just don't care. My mother cares. My family cares. My friends care. But they don't care because of my project. They care about me.
Your readers will not care about you. They will care about your books. They will care about your characters. They will care about the stories that they have shared because once they take part it is their story and not yours. They will care about you because you are connected to their stories. But they're not your family. They don't care about you.
This may sound difficult to some people, but it's a good thing. You are writing something for someone else. Give them a product that they'll love. Then step back and let them love it. If they ask you about how you did it, then give them the short answer. If they want to study your process, then tell them.
We are all selfish in this world. We think so many things about ourselves. I thought everyone wanted to know about this little playwright they'd never heard of. They didn't. The people who enjoyed my play enjoyed it for what it was, not who wrote it.
So, write your book. Write your play. Write your poem. Then share them. Because people will love your project. But nobody cares until the whole thing is done.
Friday, April 13, 2012
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
Finish it!
If you've played World of Warcraft, Baldur's Gate, Skyrim, or any other RPG (computer or otherwise) then you know about questing. It's how they roll, RPGs. And there's always a pattern. Easy stuff first. Why? Because that's what your character can handle.
In Role Playing Games we, the nerds of the world, must quantify regular human attributes like strength, speed, intelligence, and even experience.
But how do you quantify experience? How can you even know how much you've learned from something? There are so many levels of learning going on when you complete a goal that it will likely be years before you see all of the results.
But there is something delightfully simple about all this. Do a quest, gain experience, go up a level. How good are you at hitting people with axes? I'm level 3. How do you know? Well, I have finished enough quests that I am now better. I have 2000 experience points, and that means level 3.
So how does this relate to writing? Quests start out small. Why? So you can finish them. If you don't finish you get no experience points. That may sound contradictory, after all merely by making an effort you should learn something.
BUT!
There is intrinsic value to completing a project. If you can write a one page scene that is fulfilling, then you have learned how to craft a scene. If you can write one paragraph that captures the imagination of your reader then you have learned how to describe. You're not good, but you've completed a quest.
So if you are a new writer, then I say do a quest. Set yourself a goal and then finish it. Don't worry so much about how well it's done (at least not at first) just do it. These small quests will gain you experience and slowly but surely you'll find that you are ready for larger quests. If you're working on a novel, that's just a higher level quest. Don't be afraid to finish. If you don't finish, then try again, but most of all find something to finish.
There is value in finishing.
And most of all...When you've completed one quest, start another one. That's how you level up as a writer.
In Role Playing Games we, the nerds of the world, must quantify regular human attributes like strength, speed, intelligence, and even experience.
But how do you quantify experience? How can you even know how much you've learned from something? There are so many levels of learning going on when you complete a goal that it will likely be years before you see all of the results.
But there is something delightfully simple about all this. Do a quest, gain experience, go up a level. How good are you at hitting people with axes? I'm level 3. How do you know? Well, I have finished enough quests that I am now better. I have 2000 experience points, and that means level 3.
So how does this relate to writing? Quests start out small. Why? So you can finish them. If you don't finish you get no experience points. That may sound contradictory, after all merely by making an effort you should learn something.
BUT!
There is intrinsic value to completing a project. If you can write a one page scene that is fulfilling, then you have learned how to craft a scene. If you can write one paragraph that captures the imagination of your reader then you have learned how to describe. You're not good, but you've completed a quest.
So if you are a new writer, then I say do a quest. Set yourself a goal and then finish it. Don't worry so much about how well it's done (at least not at first) just do it. These small quests will gain you experience and slowly but surely you'll find that you are ready for larger quests. If you're working on a novel, that's just a higher level quest. Don't be afraid to finish. If you don't finish, then try again, but most of all find something to finish.
There is value in finishing.
And most of all...When you've completed one quest, start another one. That's how you level up as a writer.
Tuesday, April 10, 2012
Just Write
When looking for writing advice you may run into this one: Just write.
In fact, you probably will. That's because it works. Here's a few reasons why, and then a few places it might not work.
So that's it for today. It's not much, it is a Monday post after all.
In fact, you probably will. That's because it works. Here's a few reasons why, and then a few places it might not work.
- Last week I talked about disequilibrium and the psychological tendency we have to try fixing the dis. Well, you can put that to use. If you are struggling to write something good, then write something. If it's good you'll want to keep going, if not you'll probably try to fix it. I can't tell you how many ideas that have turned from a little spark into a roaring flame just because I put down something crappy. This is useful in brainstorming ideas for your book, fixing plot holes, or just getting your ideas out so you can fix them.
- Writing itself is a chore. It's not easy. It is easy to put it off. On Monday morning I have to go into work. It's a rare Monday that I wouldn't rather be spending as an extra Sunday. But I often find that when I go in it's not as bad as I thought. Forcing yourself to write can often get you in the mood, and sometimes you'll even like it.
- Writing is a skill. It takes practice. If you don't keep up on it you will lose some of the things you have learned.
So that's it for today. It's not much, it is a Monday post after all.
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