Art & Writing · Writing

What I Thought Writing a Book Would be Like

Hello Strangers,

Welcome! How have you been? Personally, I’m glad to be back here; this blog feels like the inside of the cottage I have in my head. This post will discuss some of the preconceived notions I had about writing a novel, and what ended up being true instead. (There’s a note about my future plans for the ‘Art and Writing’ section of my blog at the end.)

Photo by Min An on Pexels.com

Writing would be a linear process.

I thought that if I had 30,000 words written, that would mean I’d be about a third of the way through my narrative. In other words, writing a book would be like reading a book and all the pieces would fall neatly into place.

What actually happened:

With 30,000 words written, I have a rough beginning, middle, and end. As I continue, I’m building in more character development and foreshadowing, and after I work through those, I plan to add more depth to the plot and detail to the world building. After I finished that first draft, I wrote quite a few things out of order as I realized I needed them.

I’d only have one outline.

I assumed that I’d use one outline that detailed the entire story, and maybe I’d add to that if I needed to.

What actually happened:

I have a main outline which enabled me to write my first draft. However, when I read through the story I realized that it needed a lot of new scenes to build up my character interactions. These were hard to write though, so now when I come to particularly difficult scenes, I outline them and it helps me avoid getting writer’s block. 

I’d only need two or three drafts.

I read in a murder mystery recently about a minor character who’d been working on her novel for ten years. The main character thinks to herself that the manuscript is probably unreadable and should be scrapped as it can’t possibly be salvaged. For better or for worse, that stuck with me as I began my first novel. I’ve been scared of overcomplicating things and taking too long to write it, so I thought I’d give myself a limit of three drafts and two years to finish this story.

What actually happened:

My first draft included the skeleton of the plot, it has all of the characters and their relationships, as well as the setting. It’s the bare bones of everything. In my second draft, I’m focusing on the characters. In the third draft, I plan to add the findings from my research and strengthen the plot. Now I know that I’ll most likely need a fourth draft for restructuring and fixing continuity errors, and a fifth one for true editing and finishing touches. Those numbers are the minimum. This is my first big project and even if it fails, it will teach me so much about myself and my process, so I don’t need to limit myself with this. I need to breathe and figure out how I do things.

I thought that real writers always push past writer’s block.

What actually happened:

I’ve discovered that for me, it is beneficial when I get stuck to step back from my work. Sometimes I give myself a few minutes, a few hours, a few days to work on a problem. I might write a scene outline, I might talk through that scene with my sister. I might delete what I’ve written and start again. And sometimes, I truly disconnect and do laundry, cook, or handle business. In the end, I sit down and write the worst version. After it’s written, I feel better about it, and I can move on. That’s my editor’s problem in a few months. (I’m my editor.)

I expected people to care more…

Some writers find or build support systems, or writing groups, or other things of that nature. 

What actually happened:

I don’t know how to do that yet, I haven’t yet, and while my family and friends are very supportive and loving about my stories, most people don’t want to hear the broken-sentence-synopsis of a book that doesn’t exist yet. The author is the only person that has all the miniscule details in their mind, so asking others their opinion of them won’t usually help you. Even if you want to include others, they’ll likely be busy with their own lives and it’s easy to feel isolated. Spend time with those you love, do your work and practice your hobbies, but remember that it’s okay; you’re writing because you have a story to tell, or want to explore your personhood, or you just want to say you’re a writer. It’s alright that a good bit of it happens alone. Keep going.

Those are the notions that have been challenged so far, I hope they can be helpful to you in your writing! What I wanted to say about the future of this section is this: I love art, it was my favorite creative outlet before writing, and the two are probably equally important to me now. Within the next year, I plan to release far more posts about art (painting, drawing, sketching, the creative process, etc.) that I have been able to thus far. For now, there will be more posts about writing. I’m excited about what the future holds!

Until next time,

–Mabel

Art & Writing

The Creative Process: Originality vs. Authenticity

Hello, all my Strangers! 

I woke up this morning to a sunlit living room so bright it could have been summer. For a moment I was filled with such joy at the prospect that I forgot where I was, and instead imagined I was in a pine forest in Oregon, standing in a live-in shop of curiosities. Yesterday it was cold and gray and I went on a walk to talk with God. As I walked through my neighborhood on streets I hadn’t seen in a while, He showed me stories. 

I walked past a turtle statue half buried beneath leaves, a statue of a flying pig and a brightly painted garden gnome. There was an engraved tablet which bore a family name, but which looked like a headstone, the dirt raked around it like a burial plot. For a moment, all around me, there were bumper stickers, lawn decorations, and porch lights in different shades of amber, and every single one of them was a story. For a moment, I was connected to a foreign place, and I realized that everything around me said something, and that all of these people were saying something. There are stories all around me, and I realized that they were available for my use also; after all, now you know about the frog, the flying pig, the gnome and the grave. I know that they will enter the stories that I write and the things that I paint. 

When it comes to creation, the internet is oversaturated with information. Millions of videos, images, sound clips, and web pages, spread across dozens of social media platforms and hundreds of websites. With all of this ‘content’ being produced, the rallying cry of the community is that of originality. Every other hour, a scandal emerges surrounding art style, art theft, imitation, consent, and the effects of AI. Tropes are dissected and spat on in every genre of fiction and people cry for the dismantlement of any recognizable character types and arcs. 

In the midst of these ideas, a new question has emerged. Is it more important to be original or authentic?

According to Merriam-Webster, the first definition of original is, “of, relating to, or constituting an origin or beginning.” But I happen to like the first part of their second definition better:

 “not secondary, derivative, or imitative…” And still the third is, “independent and creative in thought or action.”

One definition of authentic according to the same dictionary is, “made or done the same way as an original.” The next relevant definition is “true to one’s own personality, spirit, or character.

I think we’ve made a mistake in separating originality and authenticity. In ‘Steal Like an Artist,’ Austin Kleon tells creatives…to steal. Again, most of us consume media on an hourly basis. We know what we like; we have our favorite shows, artists, and accounts. Some of us have curated thousands of ideas on Pinterest. These things that we love are true to our own personality, spirit, and character. This fulfills the requirements of authenticity. But if we steal traits from the things we love, doesn’t that make us unoriginal? If we created forgeries, maybe, but in taking and combining ideas we love, we are independent, and creative in thought or action. There will never be anyone like you. Even if you actually did make forgeries, they would never be the same as the originals. Everything that makes you different would change the painting. (That said, please do not make forgeries.)

All this time, we assumed that originality begot authenticity, but I believe that we have it backwards; authenticity begets originality.

How can we expect to create something wholly new in an ancient world? There is nothing new under the sun. Original work happens when you are exactly who you are. So be authentic.

Be an original.

–Mabel