The Subaru Effect

You know this effect. You've never noticed or cared about a make of car in your life until you take a ride in, or purchase one and suddenly they are positively everywhere. You see them in the highway, at the grocery store and it turns out your best friend has been driving one unbeknownst to you for years.

I can say that I've always been interested in writing and in language. But for me that's usually been a function of word choice, vocabulary and the aesthetic appeal of words. I've always treated grammar as more of a necessary means to an end. I've been guilty of playing fast and loose with spelling and, let's face it, will be again as my overall dogma about the arbitrariness of the anglo vs. american spelling differences remains unchanged. But since writing in a little more earnest than heretofore, and with the concept of an audience in mind, I'm suddenly noticing how other writers use grammar. It's like a freaking Subaru. It used to be that language, like a car just got me from point A to point B. Now I'm turning into one of those insufferable jerks who wants to write those essays you had to read in high school about "form". Wait, I suppose "turning into" may be inaccurate.

I'm about a halfway into chapter two and I've actually had to jump ahead into other chapters in various parts of the story and flesh those elements out first. Part of the reason is I have a better concept of the high points I want to hit then I do of the connections. If I leap around a little then I have focus points to drive the story with (see that another driving reference) and the narrative is smoother. I don't recall if I've made this comment before but working this way makes me feel like I'm uncovering or discovering the story that I've already written instead of sitting stumped about how to get all the way to point Q from point C. This technique also helps with a sort of anxiety that comes with being this early in a project. I worry I won't ever finish, or that if I finish it won't be good. I've done enough things in my life to know that isn't the case and that it will get done one way or another. The real question is how efficiently, or enjoyably will I be able to connect the dots of ideas into a finished product and how much discipline can I exert to keep from rushing the quality (of which I will be the sole arbiter).

Chapter 1 was a rousing success in that I actually had to cut myself off at a certain point and move on in the story. I had lots to say on the themes and characters. Chapter 2 is not suffering from that particular difficulty. I'm finding that in some places the outline I have provided gives me insufficient material if I haven't properly considered, or made sufficient note of, why I've included those ideas. It's a bit like going grocery shopping when you can't remember what you planned on cooking. As it is, the second chapter is only half complete but I've run through all the chronological material I had planned.

Thank god for flashbacks. Although, I hereby solemnly swear I will not do back story on every character just to make up for the fact that I didn't plan enough material to get me to the end of a season, I mean chapter (I'm looking at your Seasons 3 and 4 of Lost).

I'm not sure exactly how to get out of this particular douldrum. I've tried the "just sit and write" technique of the professionals and I think I understand the point is to just get something out and avoid the analysis paralysis or writers block that can kill a project in its tracks I don't think that's the answer here. If I just churn something out, without taking the time to consider why, then I can expect to come back and rewrite it later. I've heard some writers are more careful and measured in their approach. Course, most of them are dead so I can't ask them. Maybe their volume of work is smaller but I think I'll be satisfied with a novella that says what I intended over a novel that is descriptive page filler. I read the first 50 pages of Les Miserables and from what I remember they were all describing the door or sacristy of a church. I'm sure there was a metaphor there somewhere but I think I'll aim for a slightly more declaratively style than that.

On a "grand scheme" related note, I may need to swap a new project in and one of the others out. I know, and before you break into a rousing chorus of "But Kraemer that was the bet" let me explain that I've been cast in a volunteer, fundraising musical which promises to be very fun and very time consuming.

I figure if it meets the criteria of the initial project a) to be bloggable and b) to be non-work related it may be worthwhile. Although, I'm not sure who to vote off the island in it's favour: painting or opera. It would make the most sense to punt the opera as the musical is...well, music. I welcome opinions on the subject from my 2 blogg followers (love yah both ladies).

I'm continuing to really enjoy the act of writing. It's always been a great source of escape and there is something very cathartic about organizing your ideas, even your made up ideas, into a recognizable form. This process has actually shown me how much I rely on escapism to get through many of the difficult aspects of my life. I suspect it's because there is such a measurable outcome associated with such an obvious manifestation of mental flight. However, I'm not going to assume that it's a bad thing for me to step outside the four corners of my world on a semi-regular basis. That is, as long as I remember that I drive a Chevy now.