Category: Blog

For the last two weeks, I’ve been outlining my new project: “I Am Hades.” You can learn more about it in my earlier posts, but the goal is a fiction novel inspired by classic, superhero crime fighters. In order to make sure I don’t lose momentum—and I have a finished manuscript in a timely manner—I’ve decided to forego my usual sloppy approach. Instead of jumping into a story I know nothing about, I am trying to outline it first.

If you think that outlining your writing project is going to make it easier, I have news for you. The same hurdles you’ll face writing your story crop up during the outline. That’s because you’re faced with the same, nagging question: what the heck is this story about? You can be as energized and enthusiastic about your would-be best-selling novel all you want. But you still have to do the hard work of writing at some point.

And that requires a tremendous amount of your mental, creative energy. Working at 100%. For extended lengths of time. And that’s something most writers really don’t know how to do.

It’s a discipline. And, like all disciplines in this lazy, self-centered day and age, nobody knows how to do it. To produce a work of quality, you need more than talent. Chances are, you’re not as talented as you think. Sometimes, I think I’m talented. After all, I can churn out upwards of twelve news articles a day, for various clients. But is that because I’m just so freaking talented… or because I’ve been busting my butt every day for the last six years?

If you really want to produce a work of fiction, even a bad work of fiction, you have to perform this difficult task. That’s not to say outlining hasn’t been helpful. Perhaps only in this one area.

When writing a long work of fiction, it’s easy to lose perspective. What do I mean by that? When you’re 10 or 20 chapters deep in a book, you sometimes need to come up for air and get an overall sense of where the story is going. Where did we start? How’s the journey been so far? Are we getting close to where we set out for? Or has the story gotten derailed so much, that we’ve lost the original promise?

This is a common problem, at least for me. The story might not have lost the focus, but as a writer, you need to constantly ensure you’re still on track. That’s hard to do when you’ve written thousands of words and have no clue where you’re going next.

I’ve found that an outline can quickly help me regain perspective, to ensure my story is aligning with my original goal. Now, stories can often surprise you and go in a direction you didn’t plan. In a good way. But that kind of alchemy happens all on its own. You can’t predict it. So, you need to have a path to follow, when the story isn’t going its own way.

But I can’t say for certain that my outline for Hades is doing exactly what I want it to do. I am still struggling with that big question: what happens next? My hope was that an outline would make answering that much easier. It hasn’t. Writing, no matter your method, is always a struggle.

If it was anything otherwise, it wouldn’t be worth doing.

This post is part of a series called ‘The Writer’s Pool.’ I will be drawing from the wealth of knowledge from the world’s greatest writers to explore their advice, techniques, tools, and more.

We’re talking a look at one of Kurt Vonnegut’s best essays on writing. The celebrated author is breaking down style—the way your writing sounds. One of the biggest points he makes is that you must have something interesting to write about. And so he writes:

So your own winning style must begin with ideas in your head.

This might just be enough to discourage any would-be writers. As we talked about last time, how do you know if what you’re writing about is interesting? Interest and taste are subjective, so let’s look at it from another perspective.

How do you separate the “bad” ideas from the “good” ideas?

I once heard it said, “There’s no such thing as a bad story. It’s just how it’s told that matters.” Well, that doesn’t really help us, does it? We need to know if our idea is worth writing about. Will it hold a reader through a short story or exhaustingly long novel? Can it hold my attention, long enough to finish it?

We can’t predict how people will react to our writing. Not at first, at least. At the start, we are stuck with a certain kind of struggle. We just need to get something on paper. Worrying about what people think will only hamstring us. But we’re still left with this question: is my idea any good?

Forget the old, tired question of where do ideas come from? If you’re interested in writing, you’ve already answered that question. Ideas come from the driving passion you have to tell stories. The ideas come from you; or better put, that stuff that makes you, you. And, if you want to tell stories, you need to have a certain perspective.

You need to be always thinking about stories. Somewhere in the back of your mind, there is always a process going on, analyzing your environment. Little comments, images, questions, interactions are fodder for new ideas.

What you need to do is learn how to separate the wheat from the chaff. And it all boils down to passion.

That’s how Vonnegut answers this question.

Find a subject you care about and which you in your heart feel others should care about. It is this genuine caring, and not your games with language, which will be the most compelling and seductive element in your style.

Vonnegut believes the key to winning style is to write about something you care deeply about. At least, that’s the first key. I suppose this is the best way to decide if an idea is “good” or “bad.” For the sake of a fiction writer: is the idea so intriguing to you, so compelling, that you need to explore it? Does it nag at the back of your neck like a pinch, that you have to do something with it?

“Subject” in this sense can mean almost anything. In storytelling, it could be a character. Or a setting. Or a type of story. Or even a question. The “heart” of your story needs to be something that keeps you at your writing desk, day in and day out, until you finish the dang thing months (or even years) later.

Vonnegut says it doesn’t have to be a novel. Even a letter to you mayor about a pothole or “a love letter to the girl next door” will do. Anything that gets you writing, and writing authentically will work.

But what does it mean to write authentically? What’s the difference between writing from a place of true passion—and just writing because you think something will sell? I think we can explore this idea, next time.

Okay, so how do you outline a story? Last week, I wrote about how I wanted to write my own superhero story. At this point, it’s going to be a manuscript for a novel. Typically, superhero stories are comic books or graphic novels. But since I barely have enough hours in the day to do this, I figured I’d start with the words—which take considerably less time.

Normally, when I write a story I jump in feet first. It isn’t until I reach the unbearable middle of the story that I realize I need some planning. As a writer, it’s very attractive to just start with an idea, when the enthusiasm is high. But, sooner or later, the reality sets in. Writing is super hard. It’s work. It’s not as magical as those idiots in school claimed it was.

If you’re a writer, and if you’ve tried both methods of writing (outlining ahead of time like a Type-A lunatic or writing from the jump with no plans in sight), you hit the same challenges. I like to think outliners tricked themselves into thinking that, as long as they plan ahead, they won’t hit the block. But they do. Everyone does. That’s because coming up with an original story that connects with a reader is much easier said than done.

So, I wanted to show a little bit of my process, to dispel all the nonsense online. If you’ve ever looked for helpful solutions for writing online, you probably found endless articles that promise you the moon. If you only followed their “6 Easy Steps” or whatever, then you’d write a masterpiece every time. Not true. There are many hurdles you have to overcome, if you want to turn an idea into a story.

Outlining can help relieve some of your anxiety. But not all of it. While working on my new story, I realized that outlining can create a false sense of security. Sure, in a matter of days, I have over ten chapters of this book “done.” But that’s not true. I have a skeleton of ideas, strung together like a Halloween decoration. But do these ideas constitute a story? Am I spending enough time with the characters, getting inside their heads, really figuring out what this is all about?

There is a certain kind of alchemy that happens only when you’re writing. Ideas connect, synapses fire, and your story goes in directions you did not expect. I don’t think that happens as often when you’re outlining. It’s almost like cheating, getting the answers before the test.

That doesn’t mean outlining is for the birds. It means, even for someone devoted to writing their story before they write it, you have to be flexible enough to let the story change in unexpected ways as you draft it—even if that disrupts your precious outline.

What’s my progress?

So far, I have sixteen chapters outlined for I AM HADES, including a short prologue. By this time, I have reached the dreaded middle of the story—the longest part where the most happens, but is the hardest to work out. My setting has been more or less worked out, the protagonists and antagonists introduced. I have a few ideas for the main conflict and theme of the story. But there is still much more ground I need to cover, before we get to that satisfying ending.

One thing I did learn is the risk of rushing through with an outline, before letting things “marinate” in my head. What do I mean? I recommend most writers spend time thinking about their story, long before they write it. If you’re stuck, get away from your notebook, go for a walk, put on some music, and just let your imagination flow. Put yourself in that scene or setting that you’re stuck on and just see what happens.

This kind of brainstorming is necessary for building out your story. You did it before you started writing. You imagined a story in your head. So much so, you had to write it down. But, chances are, the story was long from finished. When you get to that unpaved road, you need to step away from the outline (or manuscript) and go back to brainstorming. I find that going for walks, while listening to music helps. Parts of my brain are distracted enough so my imagination can work.

I realized I needed to do this while outlining. My focus was so tightly knit on one aspect of the plot, I had neglected details needed for the story. Of course, those things could be put in as I write or rewrite. But sometimes, details need to be in there ahead of time, so that they can influence the rest of the story.

Ever wonder why stories sometimes don’t work? (Be they in a book, comic, or movie?) It’s because the writers moved too quickly, rushed out an outline or script, and never let their ideas “breath” in brainstorming. You can rewrite all day long. But, if you’ve ever finished a story and tried to rewrite, you’ll know that some things cement down very hard—and are impossible to lift up. By that I mean, there are things you put into your story early on that you can’t change. No amount of rewriting is going to fix it, short of starting all over again.

This isn’t my attempt at discouraging you from writing, but a warning sign before you cross that rickety bridge. Don’t rush ahead with your outline. Let it breathe. Take your time. Go for that walk. You’ll be happy you did.

This post is part of a new series called ‘The Writer’s Pool.’ I will be drawing from the wealth of knowledge from the world’s greatest writers to explore their advice, techniques, tools, and more.

Last post, I only touched the surface of Vonnegut’s essay. We looked at the question with which he starts his work, “Why should you examine your writing style with the idea of improving it?” My answer was, because style is really about finding the best way to communicate your ideas. It’s not about sounding trendy or mimicking another writer but reaching your reader in a way that is meaningful to them.

Vonnegut goes on and says something very challenging. “The most damning revelation you can make about yourself is that you do not know what is interesting and what is not.” Ouch. This could be the place where many a young writer gives up. There is a lot of self-doubt in writing fiction. And perhaps some of the most talented writers stop because they think what they are writing isn’t interesting.

Ironically, their willingness to question their work could make them a very good writer (meanwhile, so many writers who never doubt their work end up producing garbage). Vonnegut asks this question, not so you would throw up your hands in defeat, but so that you (again) take a good hard look at what you are writing. And perhaps more importantly, why?

So, how can you figure out what is interesting and what is not? I guess, on a certain level, interest like taste is subjective. Something might be interesting to you—but not to anyone else. Growing up, I knew a boy who was obsessed with trains. I couldn’t stand this kid, for other reasons. But one thing I knew about John was that he couldn’t get enough of trains. Years later, he popped up on Facebook. His profile picture, as an adult man, was him standing beside an old fashion steam train.

I guess he never gave up his love of trains. They were interesting to him. Certainly not to me. If he had been a writer, he might have produced long works about the glories of the locomotive. But would others have cared to read it? I’m sure there are people out there who share his love of trains, if he could find them.

How do you know your interests are, in fact, interesting? You can’t be the judge yourself. And I don’t think the answer is by trying to find out what is interesting by looking at the latest bestsellers. Trends change very quickly and are manipulated by the publishing monopoly. What is “interesting” today will be dull in a few weeks by their own doing, because they need to keep things fresh to sell more books (if they can sell more books).

Vonnegut gives us some insight into how to know if what you’re writing is interesting. He goes on to say, “Did you ever admire an emptyheaded writer for his or her mastery of the language? No.” It seems that he thinks an interesting writer is someone with something to say. By contrast, a writer who is boring is “emptyheaded.” They might have a mastery of language. They can make words jump off the page with style. But they are idiots and by that virtue are boring.

It seems the key to being interesting is that you actually care about what you are writing. I think this is something we need to get buttoned down in our heads. Chasing a trend or genre, because you think it will sell, is not the way to go. Sure, it might have worked for Nicholas Sparks, but do you want to be credited with writing “A Walk to Remember”? I don’t think so.

Sparks and others like him might have found tremendous success by gaming the system, but few can try that and produce something people want to read. And you might find yourself writing something that a certain group loves, but you hate. Do you want to internally hate yourself for years to come, because you chased a trend? Writers already struggle with enough self-loathing as it is! Why add to your grief?

Becoming interesting, regardless, seems to be a skill in and of itself. Like an acquired taste, you have to work at it. Read outside your preferred genre. Try new foods. Go to events you’d never thought you’d like. Read the Arts section of the newspaper (or news website). You might hate everything you experience. But you’ve broadened your horizons and exposed yourself to thoughts you wouldn’t have otherwise. And some of that will work its way into your creative brain and improve your ideas.

This process is kind of like stretching. Your brain is used to certain routines, processes, and ruts. If you don’t force yourself to experience something new from time to time, your ideas can easily get stale. And that includes what you write about and how. It might not immediately connect with style, but as we’ve seen, style is much more than just how impressive your writing can be. It’s about finding the best way to communicate your ideas to your readers. But if your ideas aren’t holding them, style doesn’t really matter, does it?

Yes, I want to write a new book. I have several already on the fire—only one “finished” and none of them published (in any format). But, such is the way of a writer, I always have new ideas I want to explore.

Where do ideas come from, you may ask? Well, that’s a conversation for another time. Sufficient to say, ideas present themselves to you when you are in a certain mindset.

I grew up loving superhero stories. They were, perhaps, the biggest influence on my creative mind. It wasn’t until I was older that I got into high fantasy (like Tolkien), Star Wars, old Westerns, and occult detective stories—all genres that impacted me later on.

Superheroes, to me, were the greatest thing in the world. Sadly, today, they are mostly garbage. A few good superhero movies come out from time to time. But the heart of the genre, comic books, is mostly a wasteland. The major publishers have given up, handing over their territory (their characters) to untalented hacks who abuse social politics to push an agenda. And what they produce is far from good.

There is a thriving indie market, though. Real artists, exiled from the big companies, have found a way to connect with readers and publish work on their own. This is great news, but more needs to be done. Can I, somehow, contribute to this community? I want to, and this will be my attempt.

The heart of superhero stories is comic books. Plain and simple. Some of the best work being done right now is by veteran artists and writers who left the big companies and are self-publishing thanks to crowdfunding websites. I am far from being a talented comic book artist. I can draw and over the course of ten years produced a webcomic called The Wizard of Quippley (which is still viewable on this website). But I don’t think I have the talent to produce a quality comic book or graphic novel. That doesn’t mean I’m not going to try to do something.

For now, I want to write a book. I have no idea how long it will be. Nor is there is a “market” for superhero stories in prose form (there are plenty of fiction books featuring superheroes, of course, but are any of them good?). But this is the start of the journey.

Sometimes, you just have to start. A new superhero fiction book might not be the right thing. The project might morph into something else down the road. But it’s better to get the ball rolling now, developing my ideas and story. Otherwise, what have I done?

My project is currently titled “I Am Hades.” Not much else to say about it. The idea started as a small idea, what would my take on the Justice League look like? Obviously, I have no interest (or ability) to use the actual characters owned by DC. But I can develop my own superhero league (understanding that I can’t use the word “superhero” in any creative work, as it is owned by the big guys). How would I handle characters as different as a superhuman from another world? A dark crime fighter? A dramatic and inspiring heroine? And so on?

That got me wondering what kind of dark avenger type of character I wanted to make. How would he be different from the ones already out there—but still keeping with that tradition? That brought me to the name Hades. And that’s as much as I got right now.

Before I start with my hero team, I wanted to flesh out this character. What does he look like? What kind of strengths and weaknesses does he have? What started out as a simple thought is quickly becoming a possible story.

But what do I do next? All stories begin with an idea. But an idea’s not enough. A writer has to do the hard and unenviable task of pounding that idea—like raw metal—into something useable. A story. That takes time, dedication, talent, and a stubborn refusal to give up.

Normally, I’d just start writing. But without a plan, it’s very easy to get derailed, frustrated, or lose focus and momentum. I think for this project, I will invest some time into building an outline. Just a little bit of structure to keep me focused. Then, I will begin the rough drafting stage, where I will “sketch” out my ideas for each chapter. Those sketches I will flesh out into the actual narrative.

Interested in seeing how the process looks? Then stick around.