Building blocks is a common metaphor in many discussions. Diet, programs, education…even creative endeavors. Building blocks represent the step-by-step process by which a foundation is laid and a solid entity constructed upon it—blocks building higher and higher until the structure, plan, or creative piece is done (even the jargon is based on the building concept).
It has become popular in coding and in blogging apps, too, with segments of code and posts being written in block formation as the program or story is built. It’s a convenient way to build your story. Blocks can include paragraphs or whole scenes. They are easy to move around as a unit, so they are a good means of organizing the story and moving it forward.
To be honest, in my blogging, I’m not that fond of the block structure. I tend to prefer a more fluid method, but I’ve adapted, and generally I keep my complaints to myself. The advantage it has is in the revision stage, when I can move blocks around to re-order a post. It seems to work for me in writing essays and non-fiction.
My fiction writing, however, generally works best when I start at the beginning and work straight through to the end, writing everything I already have in my mind for the story. I did recently write a draft scene by scene—still from beginning to end, though. Like blocks, I could move the scenes around in their entirety with relative ease—but I didn’t do that much. It was more likely I’d cut-and-paste sentences or paragraphs, because I was moving part of a scene and putting it in another scene.
I know people who write a whole segment and then edit, revise, and polish it before moving on. I don’t even do that with chapters! Even in long fiction I try to complete a whole draft before I begin to edit. The exception to that is when I’ve returned to a draft after an extended time, or when I‘ve had an exceptional amount of trouble with a section of manuscript. Then I backtrack to the last chapter or so and read it to refresh my memory. Revision inevitably occurs before I move on to write the next section..
My personal, mostly pantsing practices, have refined into a loose sort of system.
I make notes, but I almost never formally outline.
Notes alongside, I begin writing and steamroll my way through my first draft.
After a break from the story, I read through the draft and find what needs improving.
I then make a pass to fix all the ‘somethings’ I’ve spotted. This might begin with the over-use of particular words, especially adverbs and place-holders (um, hmm, so, and, but).
I continue to make passes to fix other problems I’ve identified. Usually I make a new pass for each type of problem; sometimes I can make a pass serve to revise more than one thing. These include:
Missing description of characters or setting
Missing coverage of action and motivation
‘Talking head’ syndrome
spelling and grammar errors
continuity issues
pace
unique voices for each character
accurate word choices
character development
I’ve found out (unfortunately it was by handing one over to my editor) that I should never, ever let anyone see my first draft. It needs my own revision first. In fact, it needs several passes from me first.
Only ever turn in your best work, even if it is only the best you can do in the moment.
To give you more detail, I tend to write my first draft in dialogue. Not like a script. No, it’s a ‘talking heads’ situation. With minimal—if any—description, perhaps a bit of ‘business’ here and there, my stories unfold by listening to the characters talk. Okay. Not good. I know that. So, I revise and add in the missing descriptions, action, inner monologues. Generally, this still isn’t enough. Now I have what amounts—not to the story I will write—but the telling of what I am planning to write. Another pass is needed, to add depth and backstory to characters, to turn bits of ‘business’ into meaningful activity that reflects the emotions and moves the story forward. Ah. Now it’s beginning to move under its own power. Another pass is needed, for consistency and continuity—no blue-eyed protagonist can suddenly develop brown eyes unless they put in contacts; nor can he have two sisters on page 17 and four on page 53. Another pass for grammar and punctuation. Another pass for eliminating unnecessary and repetitive words. Another to make sure I’ve said what I wanted to say. Subliminally, each of these passes also checks for pace, smoothness, coherence, and ease of reading.
Each pass adds a subsequent layer of improvement to my work. (If it doesn’t improve it, I have a real problem on my hands and generally take to my bed—or drink—for a day or two.) Most of the time there is improvement, and each layer settles in to integrate with the material already there to interlock into a solid story.
Ever work on a revision and simply feel the ‘click’ as the right word or phrase locks itself into place? Sometimes I swear I hear it!
I like working this way. So many times I hear a writer say they keep discovering things to change every time they read their manuscripts over. For me, that’s just one more layer. And I keep layering until it’s done.
Now, can you tell me about how YOU build your story? Comment or drop a note, and I’ll check it out.
and …
also…