Good news!

Aside from Ed McMahon informing me that I may have already won a cool $10,000,000, the manuscript for HOTEL has officially made it through edits. (Sure, there are copy edits lying in the grass somewhere, but that should be cake so let’s not spoil the moment shall we?)

On a related note, I’m giving a formal reading (whatever that is) at the local Festival of the Book tomorrow night. It’s at the library, which has been made virtually inaccessible by street construction.

It doesn’t really matter as I fully expect the sound of crickets chirping when I get done reading, followed by such in-depth questions as “Where do I go to pay my library fines,” “Your book got any pitchers in it?” and everyone’s favorite, “Could you please tell me where the bathroom is?”

If you’re in the neighborhood, pop on by. It’s at 7:00pm. I’m sure it’ll be a literary hoot-nanny. And the bathrooms are in the back and to the left.

Why guys never stop and ask for directions

Never underestimate a good outlineWriting fiction, like driving, is much easier if you actually know where you’re going—it's even better if you know how you’re going to get there.

Which is why I always write from a skeletal outline. (I know, you’re rolling your eyes and grousing about how outlining is tedious, how outlining kills the creative process, how it turns writing from a wistful pastime into actual work. To which I say, boo hoo––put on your big boy pants and get over it).

It may just be me, but it seems that if you read between the whines, most people hate outlining because…well…because it’s hard work. Its creative output done up front, not done extemporaneously. On deadline, rather than…whenever…

And before you start thinking that I’m obsessively anal, (is obsessively spelled with three of four S’s? Where’s my dictionary? I’d grab it, but then I’d have to wash my hands again...) my outlines are typically nothing more than a beginning and an ending. Point A to point B. That’s it. As I write I’ll create pages of scene notes completely out of order, but the important thing for me is, I always know how it’s going to end, even though by the time I get there things might change.

But, when I don’t follow my own map—when I wander off on some other tangent––I end up at a dead end. And on Book #2, I didn’t just wander off the path; I went four-wheeling with a case of Lucky Lager and a loaded shotgun. I knew I was getting lost, but kept writing just to see where I might end up, challenging myself to figure out a way back. And guess what? I couldn’t. Not without writing a 650-page epic with a very confusing detour in the middle. So I put the gears in reverse, hacked 90 pages, and started again.

It wasn’t a complete waste. I did a mountain of research for those 90 pages that’s finding a home in the 10 pages I wrote yesterday.

And if you’re wondering, yes, I always stop and ask for directions. Joyriding is fun, but not when you’re on deadline.

How ‘bout you? Outlines? Evil incarnate or a writer’s best friend?

A picture is worth 20,000 words

Waaaaa...that's about how many I just chopped from Book #2. I'm not sure of the exact word count, but it was 90 pages. I didn't edit them. I didn't wordsmith them. I cut them completely. Back up. Delete. Start again.

My research took me on a joyride and I was too stubborn to hit the brakes. I hate it when that happens.

Tomorrow's topic: Outlines. (And why you should stick to them). 

A moment of silence