by R.S. Mellette
My neighbor will turn 100 years old this month. She was as old as I am now when I was born. When she was one year old, the first drive-in gas station was built, bringing the total number of gasoline-purposed buildings up to 3 in the whole country.
I think of her every time I see commercials on TV for natural gas drilling in America, where they say that—using fracking—we have 100 years of gas reserves. By the time I'm my neighbor's age, the country will be halfway out of gas. By the time someone born today is her age, we will have no gas reserves at all, so I wonder what the gas lobby is bragging about.
Why do I bring this enviro-political hot potato up in a writing blog? Because of something a Turkish acting teacher told our class at North Carolina School of the Arts 30 years ago. "Know the politics of your character," she said, and followed up with, "the politics of most American characters is none at all, which is just as telling."
And I think of Steinbeck, who was 10 years old when my neighbor was born. He told stories of families and working class individuals against the backdrop of the only economic times worse than those we are living in today.
I think of Mark Twain, who died just two years before my neighbor was born. He recorded the voices of America from his youth, when this was not a free country for many of the people who built it.
And I wonder what young Twain might live in Arizona? What Steinbeck might now be on the road to a North Dakota oil boomtown? For the first time in world history, we have to change our economy from a high-density fuel source (fossil fuels) to a lower one (hydrogen, solar, wind). Will we have a writer to take us through this change the way Charles Dickens (died 42 years before my neighbor was born) took us from wood to coal, or Upton Sinclair (34 when my neighbor was born) from coal to oil?
Sure, you might not write about these world changing events, but if your stories are contemporary, they should be included. They play in the background. They are the undertow to the waves your characters face. And we, as authors, owe it to our society to record their effects.
We writers are all Tom Joad. He promised to "be there" and so should we.
R.S. Mellette is an experienced screenwriter, actor, director, and novelist. You can find him at the Dances With Films festival blog, and on Twitter, or read him in the Spring Fevers anthology.
Showing posts with label literary fiction. Show all posts
Showing posts with label literary fiction. Show all posts
Wednesday, August 8, 2012
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Exploring the Idea Store
by Matt Sinclair
"Where do you get your ideas?"
If you've not heard the question yourself, you've probably asked it of your favorite authors even as you keep turning the pages that you spent good money to buy. It's an understandable question—one I've asked in my head a thousand times even though I know where that question leads.
You see, there is no magic "idea store" where the concepts of great novels waiting to happen sit in a box marked "Just add Writer." You're more likely to get an idea by walking to a real store than expecting something to spring up in your mind from seeming nothingness. Despite what I sometimes heard in college English classes, I refuse to believe that only well-schooled, well-read thinkers can create a viable literary idea. In fact, I'm not even sure I believe ideas are "created" per se.
An old friend of mine is a Grammy-nominated music producer. (Nominees get cool medals like kids who finish first in track meets!) Years ago, we were chatting about songwriting and he reflected on how music evolves by grafting things together. It's like a Mendelian experiment: Let's see, if we take these folk lyrics and mix them with a bassa nova beat, what happens?... Hmmm, how about a ska sound instead?...
We grow—physically, intellectually, creatively—by taking what we've done in the past and tweaking it somehow. Sometimes it's by consciously going in a totally different direction; of course, that implies you knew which way you were heading. Other times, it happens by being deflected ever so slightly from where you thought you were going. I've known people who came up with entirely new novels because of a typo!
In my opinion, creativity is about being able and willing to ask questions—my favorite is "What if?"—and then being courageous enough to explore the answers.
You see, the scary truth is ideas are common, everyday things we trip over or avoid like toys in a toddler's playroom. (Where did the idea for that image come from? My daughters' room, which gets rearranged at least a half dozen times a day—not always by them.) Case in point: I'm working on a novel that takes place largely in Antarctica. I have never been there, nor do I have any friends who have. As a result of the research I've done, I have learned a lot, and in the process I've spoken to people who work there as field researchers. From there, the story has gotten better and fuller.
But where'd the idea for the story come from? A press release. I kid you not. In fact, it was a press release about microbes. Not a subject I typically cover in my work, and not exactly what you would expect for a novel about a woman whose parents die in a fiery car crash.
But when I read that random press release, characters appeared in my mind. In fact, they were so vivid and powerful I had to put aside my other work and write stream-of-consciousness pieces about who they were, what was going on in their lives, how they get along, who's married and who isn't and how that affects their relationships... I went on for a good half hour, at least. It could easily have been twice that.
Of course, once I really started writing that manuscript, lots of things changed. The basic idea was there, but as often happens when people are involved—fictional or not, it doesn't really matter—things went in unexpected directions. And that's a big part of the fun in writing: exploration.
So, back to the original question: Where do ideas come from? I recommend you go exploring and find out. I think you'll be amazed at what you find. And please share some of the locations of your favorite idea stores. Perhaps we can find something you left on the shelves.
"Where do you get your ideas?"
If you've not heard the question yourself, you've probably asked it of your favorite authors even as you keep turning the pages that you spent good money to buy. It's an understandable question—one I've asked in my head a thousand times even though I know where that question leads.
You see, there is no magic "idea store" where the concepts of great novels waiting to happen sit in a box marked "Just add Writer." You're more likely to get an idea by walking to a real store than expecting something to spring up in your mind from seeming nothingness. Despite what I sometimes heard in college English classes, I refuse to believe that only well-schooled, well-read thinkers can create a viable literary idea. In fact, I'm not even sure I believe ideas are "created" per se.
An old friend of mine is a Grammy-nominated music producer. (Nominees get cool medals like kids who finish first in track meets!) Years ago, we were chatting about songwriting and he reflected on how music evolves by grafting things together. It's like a Mendelian experiment: Let's see, if we take these folk lyrics and mix them with a bassa nova beat, what happens?... Hmmm, how about a ska sound instead?...
We grow—physically, intellectually, creatively—by taking what we've done in the past and tweaking it somehow. Sometimes it's by consciously going in a totally different direction; of course, that implies you knew which way you were heading. Other times, it happens by being deflected ever so slightly from where you thought you were going. I've known people who came up with entirely new novels because of a typo!
In my opinion, creativity is about being able and willing to ask questions—my favorite is "What if?"—and then being courageous enough to explore the answers.
You see, the scary truth is ideas are common, everyday things we trip over or avoid like toys in a toddler's playroom. (Where did the idea for that image come from? My daughters' room, which gets rearranged at least a half dozen times a day—not always by them.) Case in point: I'm working on a novel that takes place largely in Antarctica. I have never been there, nor do I have any friends who have. As a result of the research I've done, I have learned a lot, and in the process I've spoken to people who work there as field researchers. From there, the story has gotten better and fuller.
But where'd the idea for the story come from? A press release. I kid you not. In fact, it was a press release about microbes. Not a subject I typically cover in my work, and not exactly what you would expect for a novel about a woman whose parents die in a fiery car crash.
But when I read that random press release, characters appeared in my mind. In fact, they were so vivid and powerful I had to put aside my other work and write stream-of-consciousness pieces about who they were, what was going on in their lives, how they get along, who's married and who isn't and how that affects their relationships... I went on for a good half hour, at least. It could easily have been twice that.
Of course, once I really started writing that manuscript, lots of things changed. The basic idea was there, but as often happens when people are involved—fictional or not, it doesn't really matter—things went in unexpected directions. And that's a big part of the fun in writing: exploration.
So, back to the original question: Where do ideas come from? I recommend you go exploring and find out. I think you'll be amazed at what you find. And please share some of the locations of your favorite idea stores. Perhaps we can find something you left on the shelves.
Friday, April 29, 2011
Getting to Know You
by Matt Sinclair
My wife is a saint. I suppose she'd have to be to put up with me—what with a writer's piles of papers and books, the frequent empty stares when my mind is off in some fictional setting with people who exist only in my imagination, and of course the hours spent pulling those people into the world of sentences, paragraphs, chapters....
That said, when I met the woman who became my wife, her saintliness was the furthest thing from my thoughts. Light years away.
Ideally, we learn who people are in the manner and time that makes the most sense. When we learn about them too soon, alarms tend to go off and books are closed never to be reopened.
In short: pace yourself.
I was reminded of this recently while working on a manuscript I thought was nearly finished. I'd been through the manuscript a couple dozen times, but at the suggestion of my critique partners I saw one of my characters in a new light. What I thought was a seemingly innocuous business trip by the wife of my main character became a launch pad for a whole new story line: a potential affair. The more I thought about the possibility, the more I recognized that this undercurrent had been in the manuscript all along, only I hadn't been watching for it. My shoelaces were untied. Seems I'm always the last to know!
So with a song in my heart, I considered having an affair with this woman, so to speak. Within a half hour, more than 1700 words were down. And it was a complete mess. Chalk up one more example to Anne Lamott's crappy first drafts. The conversation between my characters moved way too quickly. These were married people, after all. Married people are slow. Or maybe it's just me.
What mattered most is that it didn't ring true, and I knew it immediately because I know this woman. No, she's not based on anyone I know. But that doesn't matter. She is the woman I've been writing all these many months.
I know how she wears her hair, and I know what she thinks about during her commute to work. I know what she thinks of her family and her job. In my mind, I see her every day. I'm still in the midst of revisions, but I think I know how the potential affair will end. I've written dozens of scenes between her and her husband, many of which lie dormant in old computer files—waiting, perhaps, for a short story and a name change to protect the not always saintly.
Like my personal relationships, those I maintain with my characters are vitally important to me. These people aren't my best friends. I don't even like them all the time. But as an author, that doesn't bother me; they're human, and people stink sometimes. Some characters are prone to make selfish decisions, while others choose to forgo their personal pleasure for a greater good. Ultimately, I find that discovering who these people are both on and off the page is among the most rewarding aspects of writing fiction.
The key, it seems to me, is letting the characters come to a decision by themselves—in their own time and in their own way. That takes time. But it is time well spent.
What do you think? How long does it take to get to know your characters? How many scenes litter your 'cutting room' floor?
My wife is a saint. I suppose she'd have to be to put up with me—what with a writer's piles of papers and books, the frequent empty stares when my mind is off in some fictional setting with people who exist only in my imagination, and of course the hours spent pulling those people into the world of sentences, paragraphs, chapters....
That said, when I met the woman who became my wife, her saintliness was the furthest thing from my thoughts. Light years away.
Ideally, we learn who people are in the manner and time that makes the most sense. When we learn about them too soon, alarms tend to go off and books are closed never to be reopened.
In short: pace yourself.
I was reminded of this recently while working on a manuscript I thought was nearly finished. I'd been through the manuscript a couple dozen times, but at the suggestion of my critique partners I saw one of my characters in a new light. What I thought was a seemingly innocuous business trip by the wife of my main character became a launch pad for a whole new story line: a potential affair. The more I thought about the possibility, the more I recognized that this undercurrent had been in the manuscript all along, only I hadn't been watching for it. My shoelaces were untied. Seems I'm always the last to know!
So with a song in my heart, I considered having an affair with this woman, so to speak. Within a half hour, more than 1700 words were down. And it was a complete mess. Chalk up one more example to Anne Lamott's crappy first drafts. The conversation between my characters moved way too quickly. These were married people, after all. Married people are slow. Or maybe it's just me.
What mattered most is that it didn't ring true, and I knew it immediately because I know this woman. No, she's not based on anyone I know. But that doesn't matter. She is the woman I've been writing all these many months.
I know how she wears her hair, and I know what she thinks about during her commute to work. I know what she thinks of her family and her job. In my mind, I see her every day. I'm still in the midst of revisions, but I think I know how the potential affair will end. I've written dozens of scenes between her and her husband, many of which lie dormant in old computer files—waiting, perhaps, for a short story and a name change to protect the not always saintly.
Like my personal relationships, those I maintain with my characters are vitally important to me. These people aren't my best friends. I don't even like them all the time. But as an author, that doesn't bother me; they're human, and people stink sometimes. Some characters are prone to make selfish decisions, while others choose to forgo their personal pleasure for a greater good. Ultimately, I find that discovering who these people are both on and off the page is among the most rewarding aspects of writing fiction.
The key, it seems to me, is letting the characters come to a decision by themselves—in their own time and in their own way. That takes time. But it is time well spent.
What do you think? How long does it take to get to know your characters? How many scenes litter your 'cutting room' floor?
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