Wednesday, May 19, 2010

no plan, stan

Thistleswitch writes itself. That's a fact. I have no more of an idea of where the story is going than someone reading it does, even though I'm the one writing it. At least, that was the case at first - since I started writing, I have gotten flashes of inspiration about certain ending bits and pieces. But on the whole and large, I don't know what's going to happen next, even when I'm the one writing it.

The remarkable fiddle is a good example. It appears in only the second chapter, and when I wrote the second chapter I still had absolutely no idea of what story I was telling. Aries just insisted that a remarkable fiddle would be an important part of his quest. Until a month or so ago, I had no better notion of what the fiddle's use would be than Aries, Niko and Merry do. But then the reason came to me, and now it makes such perfect and total sense that I doubt anyone would think that I hadn't planned it out from the beginning.

Another typical example is much less important to the story. At the beginning of The Chapter in Which Aries Phoenixflight's Quests Fail, Yet Again, To End, the heroes hear a loud crash in the forest. When I wrote this, I had no idea of what the crash was. In fact, I couldn't even think of anything that it could be. I considered deleting that bit and thinking up something else to replace it, but I've learned from experience that deleting things the story insists upon don't work out well. So I left the story and went to take a shower.

A note on that: though it may seem strange, I do my best creative thinking in the shower and on the toilet. Makes me feel sorry for the characters in Thistleswitch who don't need to do those things. Yup, that's right:

"Though I cannot explain to you the lack of urination and defecation in the majority of literary masterpieces, I can, in the interest of clarity and full disclosure, explain the matter as it pertained to Aries and Niko. Though your earlier hypotheses are hardly foolhardy, the actual reason for the phenomenon is much simpler, and it is just this: along with such activities as shaving and tooth-brushing, heroes and their companions simply do not need to take a leak unless it is convenient.

And, as we can certainly agree upon the fact that dealing with micturition while sitting on a horse is perhaps the epitome of inconvenience, it stands to reason that Aries Phoenixflight and his companion had no such needs."


So I'm in the shower, trying to think of what I could replace the crash with if I really have to. I think, What sorts of things are in fairy tales? And then I think, What if Aries meets another hero? That could be good. And then, Well, how could another hero travel through the Thistlethought, though?

And just like that, some sort of divine novel inspiration strikes, and I know exactly what that crash was. The hero has enchanted armor to withstand the Shift. It's too large for him. He's fallen, causing a crash, and needs another hero's help to get back up. Just like that, I know exactly what that crash was for, and it all makes perfect sense.

Sometimes I'll delude myself into thinking a certain thing about the story. Just like Aries, I was quite certain that there was only one princess of Afalanphra. It wasn't until I was writing the scene with the High Receptionist that the story suddenly decided for itself that there was more than one princess. I learned it right along with Aries. If I try to argue with the story and put something in that it doesn't think works, I'm always the one that swerves first and deletes what I've tried to add. If the story doesn't put it in my head, I don't put it in the story; it's as simple as that.

No comments:

Post a Comment

If you comment, you're all that and a bag of chips. Like, high class chips. From Trader Joe's, or something.