I should be doing a book review, because it is in fact Friday; but quite frankly I don't feel like it. And--let's face it--this is Amurrica, so I can do what I want. I've been doing a lot of writing lately--not here, obviously, but on paper--and I just sort of need to reflect on what it's like to start writing a novel.
Though it's only a young adult, escapist fiction work--something one of my college professors would refer to as "crap"--I've spent so much time in the planning stages. First, you start with a rough idea, like an explanation of the plot in a sentence. That sentence turns into a series of lists: lists of characters, lists of conversations, lists of characteristics of your characters, lists of quotes, lists of lists that you still need to make, etc. The planning stages are the purest form of Hell on Earth. You sketch drawings of your characters on a plane flying home from vacation, knowing that it's completely unnecessary because you're not an artist and your potential novel won't have pictures. You have a folder full of sheets of loose-leaf paper--the kind you used in high school that came in bulk--filled with notes scribbled in the margins describing the idiosyncrasies of a single character and their importance in the grand scheme of the story. You begin to write aspects of your character that won't even matter to the story, like their favorite song (his is "In This Diary" by the Ataris), even though it's doubtful it will be featured in the novel. You write it down because even though you haven't started writing the novel, your character is already telling you who he is.
Finally, you start to write long paragraphs. Starting is the hardest part. Do I start mid-scene? Do I start with dialogue? Do I describe my character right away? How do I do that by showing instead of telling? Sometimes you just have to write a word--any word--and see where it takes you. Don't choose a word like "Watermelon;" it'll take you nowhere unless you're in BFE. Once you've got a good rhythm going, you can't put down your pen. People will talk to you, and their words will hang in the air around you, never penetrating your consciousness. You'll really piss people off, but it won't matter. Who needs friends? You have characters!
After several days of writing--or hours, or minutes sometimes--you'll hit a brick wall. The train of thought has run out of coal, or perhaps there are sheep on the tracks. And I know what you're thinking--just run over them! But you can't just run over sheep. Their intestines get caught in the tracks, and there's nothing worse than wasted haggis. So, you wait. You can see what's next, just a few chapters or pages away, but you've got to find a way around these sheep. You could back up--fuck that; do you see all the writing you just did? You're back to the "write any word" struggle. If you just write some word that can convince these sheep that it's time to get off your track and move to green pastures... You'll find that word, and you're moving again. This will happen over and over again, and every time it's another stupid animal you just can't get around.
I love writing with all of my heart; it's the reason I'm alive. But these animals are going to be the end of me.
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