I haven't had to worry about plot in a long time. No need--I've been writing poems and even my narrative-driven, weird little prose poems, don't quite operate like fiction. But once I realized I'd been mulling over the same storyline--manifesting itself in different ways and in dozens of scraps--for over two years, I decided to show up at the keyboard every day this summer and write it down.
Not. So. Easy.
Turns out, writing poems made me forget how to work with plot. As in, I didn't really have one. Except vague ideas about what, maybe, was supposed to happen to these characters. Characters I could picture about as well as I can see my alarm clock in the morning when I haven't yet put on my glasses. This coming from the girl whose lenses are special-ordered by the optometrist.
I consider myself an orderly person. I don't really like surprises or uncertainty or gray areas, even though the brainy part of my brain insists that gray areas help you think and are more interesting than a simple circle yes or no.
Making the step from
I don't know what I'm doing to
Just do it anyway, something will happen felt like working up the courage to drop out of a plane.
Thankfully I've had some good companions during my free-fall:
Julia Holmes's forthcoming debut novel
Meeks (from
Small Beer Press, you should read it, it's great), with its dark, fairy tale structure and intertwined narratives, made me feel up to the formal challenge I'd set for myself.
Julie Orringer's beautiful debut novel
The Invisible Bridge kept me thinking about luck and chance and humanity, the importance of stories in a time of crisis.
Lydia Millet's
Love in Infant Monkeys helped me to remember that levity in the face of weirdness or tragedy can go a long way.
And, to Aimee Bender and her first novel
An Invisible Sign of My Own, I owe a debt of gratitude for reminding me that the modern fairy tale still has relevance. And that being compulsive and weird and sad, whether your compulsion is numbers or words, can be alright for a little while.
Now I just have to figure out what to do with my talking bear.
I read a blogpost awhile back that explained storytelling in a very interesting way. (I wish I could find the link). Basically they said that some writers write from the top down and others write from the bottom up. Sounds like you're a bottom up writer - you write the characters first and then follow them around their world. Top down writers figure out the plot and environment of their story first and then figure out their characters.
ReplyDeleteI tend to be a bottom up writer and for years I thought I was weird because of it. I'm beginning to realize that that's just a different way to get to the same end of completing a story. So don't worry about not knowing your plot just yet... just keep writing and you will get to the end of your story in your own way. :)
Jennifer: Thanks for the kind words of encouragement--and for the follow! It's always a relief to hear that someone else approaches writing in a similar way, whether it's bottom up, sideways, or upside down...
ReplyDeleteYou can do it. The idea of writing this way appeals to me, because it feels like you could really capture something's essence/atmosphere by refusing to be tied down to some kind of an outline. I don't think I could ever write this way, because I need that outline or I come to a full stop, but I think it is Kristen-y and fitting. Good luck. And show me when you're done.
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