A Writer's Notebook: Day Seventeen
I am still working on the story, and it seems to be going rather well at this point. A lot of the things that I was not truly sure how to handle have begun to be sorted in the story. I am not certain of details I am using, at this point, and I think I may want to make certain changes, but that may be wrong... I think that certain props in the story could be stand ins, and I expect that I will add more to certain things as well. I worry, still, about Carter's attributes, as he is a rather passive and quiet character at this point, and I need a better sense of his interior experience. I don't know, at the moment, what is going to motivate him forwards in this context. I think, perhaps, I have the solution, though. In fact, now that I consider it more closely, I am fairly sure of how to handle it, and it will make the entire thing far more sensible, in a way. I actually had most of it already in my mind, as it is central to why the diner works so beautifully, I just had not connected all of the dots. I am eager to get back to work, and I believe that I may have a clear sense of most the story from here on. The ending is still elusive in certain details, and I know that I need to consider the beginning again. Some ideas have changed in the story as well, and I do think that their may be a section of the story that is not yet clear to me.
I do have concerns about the story, but I think that much that concerns me is more to do with my own aesthetic, or some aspect of how I construct fiction. To be straight about it, I am aware that my plots don't work in the same way that a typical story does much of the time. I allow a story to go in weird places and linger, and the conflict can be odd. In my current story, I have not stated the conflict, and it isn't truly revealed in full, I don't think, until it is actually resolved. A desire is expressed by the main character, but it is only the surface, and the conflict is far deeper. In some sense, the greatest tension might well be about the character breaking down and letting out what is buried inside.
At one point I was told that a story of mine seemed to have no plot. A slight variation on that same story received accolades from others, but I still recognize what the first comment was pointing at. Indeed, that story is one that I intend to work on, as I can think of many things to add. Yet, even what I add is not going to fill in much of what might be missing. The story is not able to have a true plot, in some sense. The story centers upon a character being told that they are no longer about to have free will, and having a series of experiences that lead them to accept this as true. In the exploration of the idea, the character has to remain, in a way stuck, as the true resolution is intended to exist outside the story. The point, in many cases, for me, is not the character's experience, but that of the reader. I have mentioned before that the story I am discussing here uses a conceit which begins with a questioning of the reality surrounding the story. It is said, directly by the character, that the story is not true, but in a way that feels more like a lie, or a dismissal. It may be that they recognize no one would believe it was true, as they seem to suggest, but it may also be for the narrator's own benefit, an effort to affirm that it is not the real truth. As well, the story intends for the reader to enter experiences that are akin to those of the narrator through the text itself, to create an experience that makes the reader a foil to the character. Thus, at the end, the true intent is for the resolution to occur in the experience beyond the page. The character cannot take the next step, they have not the freewill to do so. They are a piece of fiction, but the reader is not. That is, in part, the point: for the reader's experience to fulfill the story by transcending it.
I do not know if that makes any sense. It makes sense to me. I want my story to interact with a reader. I want them to have an experience. In some ways, my current story is more conventional, so far, though it is still far from traditional. It does not yet have as much of that experiential quality, so far as I can recognize, and that is largely a choice dictated by the voice of the story. It is an external voice, one that is cut out from the interior of the character's, though it is not intended to act in a filmic way. I am not certain how to break that further. Considering it, ideas come to mind which might allow me to deepen the narration within it's own limited confines. Perhaps it can have a deeper access to the objective reality. It may, for instance, make sense to include things that are about the world, within a context that also expresses the narrator's limits. I am thinking how I might do this in going back. It would be a strange thing, but it might well work, at least in parts...
My intent hadn't been to do that, but the story is brewing and that is a good thing. I know that much of what I am considering here may best work in revision. In specific, I can see how I might include a description of a particular toy's history in the narration, for example, but make it clear that it is not a fact stated by Bimble, and explicitly point out that it is unclear whether Bimble knows. I like this, as a way of reconsidering this type of voice, and I enjoy the implication of a third wall break that this implies (the narrator must be a person on some level, but is not in the story; how could a person in the world of the story have this knowledge without being in the story? This implies the fictional conceit within the story, thus acting as a subtle third wall break). However, I cannot use such a device at this point and not use it through the story. I have some sense of how this can be done, and it brings the beginning of the story into focus. Indeed, it fits together with many of the other ideas. I truly am glad, as I think I will be as eager to do that revision work as I am the current writing.
The beginning, I have been thinking, can be cut to the direct start with him outside the factory, and then offer the context within that scene. By using this new aspect of the voice, I can do a large amount to build the world. I can imagine starting with a description of the building in a way that discusses it's past, in a way that is not connected to character knowledge. The point is a narrative voice that knows the details of the world on the outside, but nothing from the subjective experience within a character's mind. For example, in describing a certain aspect of how Carter came to Bimble, the narrator may tell about a specific object, even a detail that the character could not know. A person uses a pen and the narrator states something about the pen and how it will be used later, or has been used, or where it came from. This must not be too much, of course, and needs to balance within the novel. It also must make it clear that it is not internal. Would it be too far for the narrator to ponder about the motivations of a character? I don't know. All of these are questions for later, though. At this point, I am focused upon finishing this draft, as it is going.
The next bit will be that scene about the diner, and I am aware how to get to it in a way that will work, I think. Essentially, Bimble will keep arguing with Carter, but he will do so while just opening the door so the diner can show up. The logistics of them getting in are a bit more complicated, but I trust that they will work out in the writing. I've a sense of how it should feel, and that should guide me. I think it will be fun, and I think the diner scene will as well. I plan to pepper it with more characters and to use the whole thing to get more out from Carter.
Anyhow, I am going to call it an evening for now. I want to keep up with doing the Wonderbook project in the morning, tomorrow, and continuing on. In part, this takes a bit of pressure off of these notebook entries. I will be able to make them as long or short as they need to be, though I want them to remain a daily practice. It also gets me up and working, a practice that seems worth cultivating. I hope this will spread into further other work, or more energetic and enthusiastic pursuit of other projects. It should, at least, teach me that I need to begin my day by working. That is a good lesson, and one I am glad to take in. I am building a routine for my writing life, and that requires structure. Setting up the goal of doing that work each morning makes it easy for me to keep the goal realistic and simple. I may not always awaken ready to write anything, or at least I might easily convince myself of that fact, but I can always write a response. I can always bounce off other ideas as a starting point. I only have to decide to do the work. The power to succeed is mine and I have made the conditions for that success simple. This allows me to develop the pattern of behavior, to create a habit of writing in the morning, just as I have created a general habit of writing daily. Once I have that habit, I can decide if I want to change my focus at that time of day, or if writing in the afternoon or evening is more conducive for my process.
I had intended to just sign off there, but I am babbling. To paraphrase a quote that is attributed to many people, I am sorry for the long entry, I am too tired to write a shorter one.
I do have concerns about the story, but I think that much that concerns me is more to do with my own aesthetic, or some aspect of how I construct fiction. To be straight about it, I am aware that my plots don't work in the same way that a typical story does much of the time. I allow a story to go in weird places and linger, and the conflict can be odd. In my current story, I have not stated the conflict, and it isn't truly revealed in full, I don't think, until it is actually resolved. A desire is expressed by the main character, but it is only the surface, and the conflict is far deeper. In some sense, the greatest tension might well be about the character breaking down and letting out what is buried inside.
At one point I was told that a story of mine seemed to have no plot. A slight variation on that same story received accolades from others, but I still recognize what the first comment was pointing at. Indeed, that story is one that I intend to work on, as I can think of many things to add. Yet, even what I add is not going to fill in much of what might be missing. The story is not able to have a true plot, in some sense. The story centers upon a character being told that they are no longer about to have free will, and having a series of experiences that lead them to accept this as true. In the exploration of the idea, the character has to remain, in a way stuck, as the true resolution is intended to exist outside the story. The point, in many cases, for me, is not the character's experience, but that of the reader. I have mentioned before that the story I am discussing here uses a conceit which begins with a questioning of the reality surrounding the story. It is said, directly by the character, that the story is not true, but in a way that feels more like a lie, or a dismissal. It may be that they recognize no one would believe it was true, as they seem to suggest, but it may also be for the narrator's own benefit, an effort to affirm that it is not the real truth. As well, the story intends for the reader to enter experiences that are akin to those of the narrator through the text itself, to create an experience that makes the reader a foil to the character. Thus, at the end, the true intent is for the resolution to occur in the experience beyond the page. The character cannot take the next step, they have not the freewill to do so. They are a piece of fiction, but the reader is not. That is, in part, the point: for the reader's experience to fulfill the story by transcending it.
I do not know if that makes any sense. It makes sense to me. I want my story to interact with a reader. I want them to have an experience. In some ways, my current story is more conventional, so far, though it is still far from traditional. It does not yet have as much of that experiential quality, so far as I can recognize, and that is largely a choice dictated by the voice of the story. It is an external voice, one that is cut out from the interior of the character's, though it is not intended to act in a filmic way. I am not certain how to break that further. Considering it, ideas come to mind which might allow me to deepen the narration within it's own limited confines. Perhaps it can have a deeper access to the objective reality. It may, for instance, make sense to include things that are about the world, within a context that also expresses the narrator's limits. I am thinking how I might do this in going back. It would be a strange thing, but it might well work, at least in parts...
My intent hadn't been to do that, but the story is brewing and that is a good thing. I know that much of what I am considering here may best work in revision. In specific, I can see how I might include a description of a particular toy's history in the narration, for example, but make it clear that it is not a fact stated by Bimble, and explicitly point out that it is unclear whether Bimble knows. I like this, as a way of reconsidering this type of voice, and I enjoy the implication of a third wall break that this implies (the narrator must be a person on some level, but is not in the story; how could a person in the world of the story have this knowledge without being in the story? This implies the fictional conceit within the story, thus acting as a subtle third wall break). However, I cannot use such a device at this point and not use it through the story. I have some sense of how this can be done, and it brings the beginning of the story into focus. Indeed, it fits together with many of the other ideas. I truly am glad, as I think I will be as eager to do that revision work as I am the current writing.
The beginning, I have been thinking, can be cut to the direct start with him outside the factory, and then offer the context within that scene. By using this new aspect of the voice, I can do a large amount to build the world. I can imagine starting with a description of the building in a way that discusses it's past, in a way that is not connected to character knowledge. The point is a narrative voice that knows the details of the world on the outside, but nothing from the subjective experience within a character's mind. For example, in describing a certain aspect of how Carter came to Bimble, the narrator may tell about a specific object, even a detail that the character could not know. A person uses a pen and the narrator states something about the pen and how it will be used later, or has been used, or where it came from. This must not be too much, of course, and needs to balance within the novel. It also must make it clear that it is not internal. Would it be too far for the narrator to ponder about the motivations of a character? I don't know. All of these are questions for later, though. At this point, I am focused upon finishing this draft, as it is going.
The next bit will be that scene about the diner, and I am aware how to get to it in a way that will work, I think. Essentially, Bimble will keep arguing with Carter, but he will do so while just opening the door so the diner can show up. The logistics of them getting in are a bit more complicated, but I trust that they will work out in the writing. I've a sense of how it should feel, and that should guide me. I think it will be fun, and I think the diner scene will as well. I plan to pepper it with more characters and to use the whole thing to get more out from Carter.
Anyhow, I am going to call it an evening for now. I want to keep up with doing the Wonderbook project in the morning, tomorrow, and continuing on. In part, this takes a bit of pressure off of these notebook entries. I will be able to make them as long or short as they need to be, though I want them to remain a daily practice. It also gets me up and working, a practice that seems worth cultivating. I hope this will spread into further other work, or more energetic and enthusiastic pursuit of other projects. It should, at least, teach me that I need to begin my day by working. That is a good lesson, and one I am glad to take in. I am building a routine for my writing life, and that requires structure. Setting up the goal of doing that work each morning makes it easy for me to keep the goal realistic and simple. I may not always awaken ready to write anything, or at least I might easily convince myself of that fact, but I can always write a response. I can always bounce off other ideas as a starting point. I only have to decide to do the work. The power to succeed is mine and I have made the conditions for that success simple. This allows me to develop the pattern of behavior, to create a habit of writing in the morning, just as I have created a general habit of writing daily. Once I have that habit, I can decide if I want to change my focus at that time of day, or if writing in the afternoon or evening is more conducive for my process.
I had intended to just sign off there, but I am babbling. To paraphrase a quote that is attributed to many people, I am sorry for the long entry, I am too tired to write a shorter one.
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