I re-watched Morning Glory last night; I love that movie, and I’m trying to understand why it never got any traction in theaters in spite of a sterling cast and a solid concept. My conclusion: Snotty critics who disapprove of the genre (lightweight comedy) and truly bad marketing. I’m annoyed.
Or in this case, Nita’s soundtrack.
I do soundtracks for my books for the same reason I do collages: to look at the story in a different way. I start by making a playlist of any song that seems right–Chesney’s and Imagine Dragons’ “Demons” songs were a no-brainer–and trying to find new things–that would be Lenka’s “Trouble is a Friend” recommended by CateM here–and then putting them in a rough order. Then the soundtrack usually sits for awhile as I write.
“Tech geek question, but what program did you use to make the schematic?”
Zengobi’s Curio. HUGE fan of Curio, I use it constantly. Unfortunately only for Mac and not yet on the iPad. Must go harass them about that. Curio does ten thousand things, and the website does a good job of telling you all about them. I use it for about as many things, but when it comes to writing, I have two Curio files for each book: Notes and Collage (aka Visual Notes). Continue reading
Many years ago, I was an art teacher, first at the elementary level and then at the junior high. At the elementary level, kids loved art, At the junior high level, tension set in. They came in afraid because it was a required class and they didn’t have talent. They were going to fail. They didn’t know how to be an artist. That first day, they’d look at me with varying degrees of terror and anger. We didn’t want this, I could hear them thinking. It sucks that you’re making us do this.
So I’d start out with, “Suppose this was a Spanish class. Would you feel awful because you couldn’t speak Spanish? Of course not, you’d be taking the class to learn that. And you’re taking this class to learn art. I don’t care if you’re talented or not, I just want you to learn the basics of design.”
But I could still see the tension, so I’d get to the part that was really worrying them: the grading.
“Every assignment I give you will get three grades: one on design, one on originality, one on craftsmanship.”
“For design, I’ll tell you exactly what I need you to do: repeat shapes to make a pattern, choose a color scheme, vary texture, whatever. As long as you use the design element as assigned, you’ll get an A in design. I don’t care how awful your work is, if you used the design element as assigned, you get the A.
“For originality, I’ll look for how different your approach is. Did you do a picture of a tree by a lake or did you draw flying hamburgers? Did you do orange pumpkins or purple pumpkins with red ribbon stems? How did you make the assignment new, different, yours. If you used your imagination, you’ll get an A, even if the project is a mess and you screwed up the design part.
“And finally, for craftsmanship, if you used your tools well and executed your design cleanly, if you respected what you were doing enough to do it carefully, you’ll get an A. Even if your design is all wrong and you drew Mickey Mouse, you’ll get an A in craftmanship.”
“Nothing there requires talent. I don’t care if you can draw. I just want you to learn the basics of design while using your imagination and treating your artist’s tools with respect.”
At that point, I could always feel a collective sigh in the room, thirty kids finally breathing again. And as we did one project after another, they didn’t just learn the basics of design, they learned that they really were artists, that they all had talents in different areas which meant that the fact that their work didn’t look like the kid’s next to them was a good thing, that creativity was expression, and that they could be even more expressive once they had the safety of a framework: Design/Originality/Craftsmanship.
I was thinking of that tonight, thinking of the Nita story evolving and the Gaiman Snow White story I read earlier this week and of how difficult it is to write a story, to juggle all the different aspects of writing and storytelling and I realized that it all goes back to Design/Originality/Craftsmanship. Know your structure and the theme that pulls it all together; swing wide and high within the structure, no limits to your creativity; and then revise it to be tight and strong with beautifully clear syntax, no unnecessary words to clog up the works, no grammatical or punctuation errors to spoil a reader’s attachment to the narrative.
So discovery drafting is about originality, but it’s also about discovering the structure you need, not to limit yourself but to support you as aim for the moon. It doesn’t matter that I look at this book and think, “It’s not even close.” Of course, it’s not even close. I’m still learning this story, but every step I take that brings me closer to the structure I need, every step I take farther outside the box labeled “Crusie,” every word I cut and phrase I polish, brings me closer. It’s not about talent. It’s about creativity and craft.
And design, originality, and craftsmanship.
(How long ago was this? The kids with me in my art classroom below are all in their forties now. I’m old.)
I’m getting company this afternoon (YAY) so I’m cleaning, which in this house means getting a backhoe. The thing about cleaning is, it’s pretty mindless except for the “Why is that in here?” moments and the “I should just get a box of garbage bags and put everything into them” moments. That means that I am now productive while staring into space, which is what I’ve been doing for much of June because Discovery Draft sometimes comes with a side order of “Why would that happens?” (Because the Girls want it to.) And “How could that happen?” And What does that mean? (Who care, write the damn book.)
I’m telling you, I don’t know what this country is coming to! We used to have standards, there were rules, people knew their places and it was peaceful. Everybody was polite and everybody was happy. And now look at us: Rudeness and violence and division, no respect for the things that made our country great. We’re just going to Hell, that’s all there is to it! Except here on my island, it’s the other way around: Hell is invading us! I’m sorry, but I am not going to accept demons on my island. You know you’ve crossed a line when people like me start to speak up! There are standards, and I’m going to defend them!
I blame Satan.
Of course, I blame Nick Giordano, too, but if he’d just known his place, I’d have kept him on once I became Devil. As they say in Hell, he made the trains run on time. (Do you know what other human made the trains run on time? Mussolini. That should give you an idea of Nicolas Giordano.) Continue reading
I’ve been thinking about food a lot. About how we think about it, talk about it, choose it, prepare it, enjoy it or feel guilty about it, but mostly how it works in story. I’ve always said that setting is time, place, and people. Now I’m thinking it’s time, place, people, and food. Continue reading
I know how Nick gets the sword. It’s freaking brilliant. The Girls are geniuses. I’m a genius. No, I won’t tell you, it’s a major plot point, but I love it so that one’s solved. And may even have solved the “Why does’t he talk like a Rennaissance Italian?” problem.
You know, when I’m good, I’m GOOD.
It really is great to have so much feedback on the content of a Discovery Draft. (And nobody rewrote, so you are now expert beta readers.) So here are some of the questions I’m working on now as I continue making up stuff that will have to be fixed later, along with some character notes that you can tear apart.