A warning - it involves a pencil, a sausage roll, a pair of scissors, a packet of tasty cinnamon cereal, and a reprehensible abuse of highlighter pens.
Those of you who were here to view my not-so-triumphal return to the blogosphere may be wondering exactly what manner of insanity I was referring to when I listed the world's most eclectic shopping list as the requirements for the act of choosing which idea should receive my unwelcome attention during NaNoWriMo.
It is now merely two days until the even itself begins, and until the saving grace that was my attendance of my Creative Writing Society meeting last week, I would still not have a clue what I was doing. As it was, they were kind enough to gift me with the three words that would make up the criteria for this year's NaNovel: Western, railway, enigma.
Thus far, I have two protagonists (read: rough outlines with names), a rather nebulously outlined setting, and something that might just be a plot if I shake it hard enough. The only thing I do have that knows what it's about is the antagonist. And as usual, I don't know where it came from or how it got here, but I can already sense the impending overindulgence of its charmingly destructive urges.
However, if you are yet among those who have not scribbled out the ingredients for your very own recipe for disaster, help is at hand . . . in the form of the Spinny Thing Of Doom.
The Spinny Thing of Doom was something I came up with over the summer, thinking to use it as a motivational tool to get on with writing that I never actually got around to. Nevertheless, I was far too pleased with the premise to let it escape entirely - so here it is, for your exploitation and enjoyment!
Step 1 - Draw and cut out a Thing. So long as the Thing is Spinny (as specified in the title), the exact number of sides is both irrelevant and up to your own creative impulse.
Step 2 - Cut out and divide your Spinny Thing into zones. The size of these zones can vary depending on how many ideas you are tossing up between, and how much preference you want to show to one idea by letting it dominate half the zones.
Step 3 - Take a break and feast upon a small bowl of your delicius cinnamon cereal.
Step 4 - Commence criminally painful abuse of highlighters to colour the allocated Plots upon your Spinny Thing. Ensure you have a differenct colour pen upon which to mark out the title, themes, and plot bunnies you have for each idea.
Step 4.5 (Optional) - Create more Things, following Steps 1-4, an allocate spaces to random themes, plots, characters, title ideas, or assorted plot bunnies.
Step 5 - Pierce pencil through centre of Spinny Thing, and spin it! Celebrate eventual success of achieving a decent spin by gleefully devouring a sausage roll.
Step 6.1 (Ideal) - Accept the decision of your Spinny Thing(s) and go forth into glorious plotitude!
Step 6.2 (Likely) - Turn up your nose at the outcome of the Spinny Thing, and spin it again. And again. And again. Despair of process, bash face into table, cry a bit, drown sorrows in cinnamon cereal . . . then spin it one last time and resign yourself to the nonsensical outcome.
Step 7 - Put Spinny Thing in a drawer until next use is required. In other words: abandon it to moulder for all eternity.
To all you despairing souls out there, I hope these steps bring you some meaningful shred of comfort against the impending onslaught of doomfulness.
In the meantime - feel free to come and befriend me in my NaNo bunker. I am aiming for weekly updates throughout the month, at least, alongside other posts designed for the tittilation and amusement of those who are taking the wise path and saving both their time, energy and sanity by foregoing the NaNo challenge this year.
For now, though, I bid thee farewell - I have essays to plan, and errant laundry to hunt.
~ Charley R
Showing posts with label plotting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label plotting. Show all posts
Wednesday, 30 October 2013
Saturday, 28 July 2012
Best Laid Plans - Vidal
Something very amusing happened to me last week, you know.
It must have been sometime in the evening when some strange gibbering furry creature came bounding into my presence, looking very flustered and waving a piece of paper in front of my face. Once my mind had dropped to the appropriate level of intelligence, I deciphered the near illegible scrawl as a note, asking me to write some manner of themed article for the blog of my authoress – who, you doubtless have realised, is the aforementioned noisemaking hairball. She requested that I word my post based around the theme of some dull and dreary story-planning technique, because – the note assured me – I was one of the few who had the necessary skills.
The thing that amused me so much was that she thought I would listen.
There are very few things in life that I have patience for, and regrettably my creator has yet to make it onto the list. She can find any innumerable number of sycophantic fools in my city of Tanelorn alone to prate on about the pros and cons of pre-planned stories over improvised ones - they follow her orders out of fear of becoming victim to any member of her vast array of weaponry.
They have yet to work out the art that I am going to inform you of today, my friends. That of subtle insubordination.
First of all, know your enemy. And by that I do not mean memorising their favourite foods and what colour clashes worst with their off-coloured toenails. I mean know your enemy, the way you know your route home from your friend’s house, or the way your cat will invariably vomit its dinner onto the rug if you don’t give it the correct number of tummy rubs after supper. Know them so well that their behaviour is second nature. Know them better than they know themselves.
This is the true secret of success. Now, whenever you act, or even contemplate acting, you will not have to waste precious seconds thinking out your foe’s reaction. Because those seconds are going to make all the difference between your victory, and the local law enforcement scraping your entrails off the wall the next morning.
Next, you must gather your resources. Information, allies, weapons, jars of congealed fish guts, whatever you need for your current endeavour. Don’t waste time with things that “might come in useful”. Those are the things that you will trip over and impale yourself on later – literally, or metaphorically.
If you didn’t know what you were going to need beforehand, please stop reading and go and drown yourself quietly in a corner. It will save your enemy the trouble of doing it themselves.
The next stage is the truly dangerous part. Before you put so much as a hair over the threshold of action, you need to think long and hard about your course of action. But whatever you do, do not plan it out in detail. Detailed plans are all too easily derailed by the smallest thing, and that’s when the fur flies. One or two key events – particularly, personal interaction with your foe – are all you need, no matter how long your endeavour. Those markers are the only pre-planned action you will take. The rest, to put it bluntly, is nothing more than spontaneous acts of inspired improvisation. Make the most of your resources – you got them because you knew you needed them. Not because you knew why.
After this, there is the simple matter of taking the leap and hoping you reach the other side. Odds are you won’t – your enemy may have taken the bait you laid for them, but there is always some unknown factor waiting in the wings to scupper best laid plans. Do whatever you must to ensure your goal. Those of you who are squeamish over breaching moral codes will doubtless fail spectacularly at this.
The only action you should never take is to give up, for success can come from the most unexpected outcomes. I once knew a certain half-breed bastard who took the wrong side during the bloodiest civil war my people have ever known. By the end of it, the Crossblood was a Kingmaker.
Charming fellow, by the way. If a little smug.
We are all deer, my friends. Deer who snort and run around in circles the moment the wolf shows its teeth before the herd. The best hope the deer have is to run – those who hesitate, or attempt some act of altruistic stupidity, will die bloody deaths to stand example for the rest. However, the clever deer know they don’t have to outrun the wolf. Just the other deer.
Wouldn’t you say this was a far greater use of your time than reading about “brainstorming” and “plot milestones” and “flexible approaches to ad-libbing”.
Wait.
Ah.
Well played, author. Well played.
- Vidal
It must have been sometime in the evening when some strange gibbering furry creature came bounding into my presence, looking very flustered and waving a piece of paper in front of my face. Once my mind had dropped to the appropriate level of intelligence, I deciphered the near illegible scrawl as a note, asking me to write some manner of themed article for the blog of my authoress – who, you doubtless have realised, is the aforementioned noisemaking hairball. She requested that I word my post based around the theme of some dull and dreary story-planning technique, because – the note assured me – I was one of the few who had the necessary skills.
The thing that amused me so much was that she thought I would listen.
There are very few things in life that I have patience for, and regrettably my creator has yet to make it onto the list. She can find any innumerable number of sycophantic fools in my city of Tanelorn alone to prate on about the pros and cons of pre-planned stories over improvised ones - they follow her orders out of fear of becoming victim to any member of her vast array of weaponry.
They have yet to work out the art that I am going to inform you of today, my friends. That of subtle insubordination.
First of all, know your enemy. And by that I do not mean memorising their favourite foods and what colour clashes worst with their off-coloured toenails. I mean know your enemy, the way you know your route home from your friend’s house, or the way your cat will invariably vomit its dinner onto the rug if you don’t give it the correct number of tummy rubs after supper. Know them so well that their behaviour is second nature. Know them better than they know themselves.
This is the true secret of success. Now, whenever you act, or even contemplate acting, you will not have to waste precious seconds thinking out your foe’s reaction. Because those seconds are going to make all the difference between your victory, and the local law enforcement scraping your entrails off the wall the next morning.
Next, you must gather your resources. Information, allies, weapons, jars of congealed fish guts, whatever you need for your current endeavour. Don’t waste time with things that “might come in useful”. Those are the things that you will trip over and impale yourself on later – literally, or metaphorically.
If you didn’t know what you were going to need beforehand, please stop reading and go and drown yourself quietly in a corner. It will save your enemy the trouble of doing it themselves.
The next stage is the truly dangerous part. Before you put so much as a hair over the threshold of action, you need to think long and hard about your course of action. But whatever you do, do not plan it out in detail. Detailed plans are all too easily derailed by the smallest thing, and that’s when the fur flies. One or two key events – particularly, personal interaction with your foe – are all you need, no matter how long your endeavour. Those markers are the only pre-planned action you will take. The rest, to put it bluntly, is nothing more than spontaneous acts of inspired improvisation. Make the most of your resources – you got them because you knew you needed them. Not because you knew why.
After this, there is the simple matter of taking the leap and hoping you reach the other side. Odds are you won’t – your enemy may have taken the bait you laid for them, but there is always some unknown factor waiting in the wings to scupper best laid plans. Do whatever you must to ensure your goal. Those of you who are squeamish over breaching moral codes will doubtless fail spectacularly at this.
The only action you should never take is to give up, for success can come from the most unexpected outcomes. I once knew a certain half-breed bastard who took the wrong side during the bloodiest civil war my people have ever known. By the end of it, the Crossblood was a Kingmaker.
Charming fellow, by the way. If a little smug.
We are all deer, my friends. Deer who snort and run around in circles the moment the wolf shows its teeth before the herd. The best hope the deer have is to run – those who hesitate, or attempt some act of altruistic stupidity, will die bloody deaths to stand example for the rest. However, the clever deer know they don’t have to outrun the wolf. Just the other deer.
Wouldn’t you say this was a far greater use of your time than reading about “brainstorming” and “plot milestones” and “flexible approaches to ad-libbing”.
Wait.
Ah.
Well played, author. Well played.
- Vidal
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