The Writing Pantry

I am going to tell you a secret about moms. 
All moms.
Lean in. 
Listen carefully. 
You won't want to miss this.
Ready?
We HATE cooking dinner.  Despise it.
Almost as much as teachers HATE homework (yes, that's another secret for another day, kiddos.)

We don't hate cooking dinner so much b/c we hate cooking.  Some of us actually like cooking.  When we have the time.  And the energy.  And the supplies.  And someone is there to clean up after us.  And, yes, the family actually eats and enjoys what we've cooked.  Which is probably one out of one hundred dinners cooked in America.

But I thought this blog was about writing, not cooking!  You are right, Sensei.  Inner editor.  Now go back to the inner monologue where you belong!

The secret about writing is not really a secret at all.  I've written about it before.  We don't like to revise.  We want our stories to come to us ready-to-serve.  Pop it in the microwave for one minute and enjoy... sort of.  Nevermind letting stories simmer.  Or finely chopping those details.  Or leaving the yucky parts in the trash. 

But there is nothing about a story that is fast.  Even though sometimes we need to write fast!  That is why I believe writers need a pantry of ideas, bits of dialogue, observations about the world.  Here are a few ways I stock my writing pantry:

1.  Write down distinct bits of dialogue.  These are never copied (plagiarized) from a television show, movie, or someone else's writing.  They are usually from my children, family members, or the kids at the park.  I'm listening!

2.  Memories.  Sometimes a smell or a song or a piece of clothing even will trigger a memory from my childhood.  If I'm smart, I run to my notebook and write it down quickly before I forget the nostalgia of it.  This is probably my favorite way to stock my writing pantry.

3.  Story starters.  I have literally boxes and boxes of "first pages" of stories I've begun over the years.  If I need a kick-start I pull one of these gems out and fall right into the place I left off 10 years ago.  It's magical. 

4.  Observe.  This is where blogging comes in.  I watch people.  A LOT.  It sounds kind of creepy, but it's not really.  Really!  I'm just taking a mental note of how people interact... body language, dialogue, relationships, humor.  I had a friend one time who used to call me when she was a stay-at-home mom, and she used to say the strangest things to her daughter while I was on the phone.  Like, "Alexis, your cheese is not a hat!"  And "Do not stab your brother with your chicken nugget."  I guess she liked to call me at lunchtime.  Those bits of dialogue became part of my writing pantry, but so did the observation that mommies lose about 25 points of their IQ during their children's mealtime. 

So, moms:  stock that pantry because you know dinnertime is coming.  And writers, you would be wise to do the same. 

Happy writing,
Rachel

Space Cadet

Me.
Circa 1980.

Funny.  With heart.

Discovery

Lawyers call it "discovery."
Writers call it "pre-writing."
Editors call it "junk."
It's what every writer knows before the story begins.  The big mistake?  To think "discovery" is important enough to jump start a story.  It's not.  Don't get me wrong.  Discovery is important. Just not in the way I used to think...

In regards to the law, discovery refers to the pre-trial phase of a lawsuit where lawyers explore evidence which might be relevant to their case.  Might be relevant.  In storytelling, it's everything the author knows which might be relevant to the story.  It's the fact that Brick's mother named him so because she wanted him to be strong and mighty, but that she sometimes felt like he was dragging her to the bottom of a very deep ocean.  It's what the author knows but the reader doesn't need to read for the story to move.  It's what I'm guilty of including too much of in my stories.  Guilty.  There, I said it.

Discovery is fun to write.  And necessary.  As a teacher, it's what I often was handed as a "final draft."  Hmph.  Try telling kids their discovery isn't the end.  Of course it's the end!  It's the end of a beginning, that's all.  Writers... all of us, short and tall, young and old, cranky and cheery (oxymoron... who knows a cheery writer in the middle of a draft?) believe our discovery is vitally important.  So, teachers, editors, inner-editors please don't tell us writers that it doesn't matter if Mrs. C had hammertoes as a young dancer.  It does matter... but maybe not to this story.  Maybe that's ANOTHER STORY.

But writers... and I'm speaking to myself here... don't get stuck in discovery.  Move on to making your case for your story.  Because the story is the star.  Hook a reader, reel them in, give them a little line, then reel them in again!  Make them go on an adventure, even if it isn't an exotic location.  Don't give the reader a chance to think, "I'll get back to this later..." because later may never come.  Make the reader wish they had more time to read or listen!  Make the reader need to know what happens next, what decision the characters make, what their next move will be, and surprise them but don't jerk the hook from their mouth with a twist that comes from nowhere.  Like Robert McKee says, give them what they expect, but not in a way they expected it.  Golly, I think that is such a smart way to explain a good ending.  I strive for that... the perfect ending.  But that's another post for another day.

So, go on.  Discover.  Write the notebooks full of stories and character descriptions and weird bits of dialogue.  But don't be afraid to move on from discovery.  You might like what you find there.

Happy writing,
Rachel