We hates them, precious
Jan. 19th, 2004 12:23 pmThat might be the title of a political post, but in fact it is not.
I finished the plot synopsis for the Hills/Whim sequel over the weekend. It's better, I think, than the Liavek one. At least it's shorter. But oh, how I do hate to write those things. I am past the point where I fret over how stupid any book sounds when compressed; I know that such a document cannot do justice to even a written book, let alone an unwritten one that is full of Schroedinger boxes. But I still hate writing plot synopses. Some people find the process useful; some people find it fun and interesting, a game, a form of gaming the system, a cute little exercise that is less agonizing than much of the actual writing process. And some people naturally produce synopses as part of producing a finished book. To me, however, they are orthogonal to the creative process and cause a mental case of hives. The only thing I can say for them is that sometimes they fling up thematic patterns. This one did so very strongly. That's nice, but books themselves do that as well. I'd like to think that this book will turn out better because I have these patterns in my head already; but, you know, probably it won't. There isn't any way to tell, anyway.
The next step is to take the inchoate mass I have been calling "the sample chapters" and smack it into a form that looks as if it might be the opening of a book, preferably the book described in the synopsis. Then I can take this faked-up, gimcrack, penny-ante object, this pitiful standin for a real book, and get it out of my house and go back to actually writing. I try to remind myself that at least I do get to do the actual writing. When I had day jobs, sometimes I enjoyed them and sometimes I hated them, but the entire set of activities I performed in them, the only things I was paid for, felt from beginning to end and all through exactly like writing a plot synopsis. And there wasn't even a book written later.
Pamela
I finished the plot synopsis for the Hills/Whim sequel over the weekend. It's better, I think, than the Liavek one. At least it's shorter. But oh, how I do hate to write those things. I am past the point where I fret over how stupid any book sounds when compressed; I know that such a document cannot do justice to even a written book, let alone an unwritten one that is full of Schroedinger boxes. But I still hate writing plot synopses. Some people find the process useful; some people find it fun and interesting, a game, a form of gaming the system, a cute little exercise that is less agonizing than much of the actual writing process. And some people naturally produce synopses as part of producing a finished book. To me, however, they are orthogonal to the creative process and cause a mental case of hives. The only thing I can say for them is that sometimes they fling up thematic patterns. This one did so very strongly. That's nice, but books themselves do that as well. I'd like to think that this book will turn out better because I have these patterns in my head already; but, you know, probably it won't. There isn't any way to tell, anyway.
The next step is to take the inchoate mass I have been calling "the sample chapters" and smack it into a form that looks as if it might be the opening of a book, preferably the book described in the synopsis. Then I can take this faked-up, gimcrack, penny-ante object, this pitiful standin for a real book, and get it out of my house and go back to actually writing. I try to remind myself that at least I do get to do the actual writing. When I had day jobs, sometimes I enjoyed them and sometimes I hated them, but the entire set of activities I performed in them, the only things I was paid for, felt from beginning to end and all through exactly like writing a plot synopsis. And there wasn't even a book written later.
Pamela
no subject
Date: 2004-01-19 07:07 pm (UTC)