I've just discovered this about myself recently. Yes, I know. Isn't it strange?Three weeks ago I started my third novel. It's technically my fifth, but I'm not counting the first one I digitally burned, or the other one I've started, but put on the sidelines for a while because it was too smart for me.
For the first time in my life, I don't have time to binge-write (allocating large slots of time to write my heart out until I can write no more), so I've been forcing myself to get out at least 500 words, every morning, five days a week. Due to this small goal, I've actually averaged 900 a day, which is pretty damn good considering I have a full time job, Vine Leaves Literary Journal, and a whole bunch of other literary favours I do for people. Oh yeah, and there's my life away from books and music, I always forget that one ...
Anyway, I started this novel on a whim because I really really craved some finger aerobics (they've been losing a lot of muscle tone lately), and I started it without plotting a single thing. All it started with was an idea of two characters.
Once I started writing, it turned into four solid characters, and I also discovered their motives and a basic story line without figuring out exactly what's going to happen any further than two chapters from where I currently write. And you know what I've discovered? This lack of plot keeps me really excited about my story. I want to know what happens next, which makes me want to sit down and write, and that, in turn, motivates me to get up early and write those minimum 500 words before work.
This is great! You know why? Because I haven't written anything on any novel for around 9 months. The novel that is sitting on the sidelines, is FULLY plotted. And once I'd figured out how it was going to progress, my enthusiasm for it died. Completely and utterly deflated like a defective pavlova.
My second novel, Bitter Like Orange Peel, was completely plotted too. And the first draft was torture. TORTURE. It took me more than a year to write those 73,000 words.
I really can't believe I've been doing it wrong all these years and wondering what the heck was wrong with me. Why did it take me so long to finish a novel? Because I was plotting and it destroyed my spark. I guess plotting isn't for me after all.
How about you? Has your writing rhythm changed as you've become more and more experienced, or have you found your comfort zone and are sticking with it?
