This probably won't be the last time.

 Welcome to another episode of conversations with myself.

 

Q. How’s the next project coming?

A. Well… I’m sure I’ll have some direction soon.

Q. Direction?  Are you telling me you haven’t started yet?

A. Of course I’ve started.  I’m always working on something.  It’s just too soon to talk about it.

Q. I don’t know what you mean.  You can talk about your plans so far.

A. What if my plans involve only vague ideas?

Q. That’s still interesting, and it still sounds like you haven’t started yet.

A. Maybe if I didn’t have to answer all these questions, I’d –

Q. No excuses.  It’s time for you to be an open book.  <hee hee>

A. Why is that funny?

Q. Because you’re an author.  You want people to open your books, and I’m asking you to be one.  Figuratively.  That’s… kind of funny.

A. Is it figuratively funny?

Q. That’s not a thing.

A. Are you sure?

Q. So… about that book you haven’t started…

A. The one I’m not talking about?

Q. Yeah.  Why aren’t you talking about it?

A. I don’t have anything interesting to say yet.  I have lots of ideas on what I want to write, and I haven’t decided which ones I’ll use.

Q. I think you just admitted you haven’t started yet.

A. Every book starts with an idea.

Q. But you haven’t started writing the book yet.

A. I’ve written down some ideas.

Q. Why does it feel like we’re talking in circles?
A. Wait.  Who’s we?

Q. Me and… uh, all the people who want to know about your next book.

A. My newest book came out only two weeks ago.  Maybe “we” should remind everyone to read Simon’s Mother before we talk about what comes next.

Q. That’s a good point.  It does seem a little soon to bug you about writing something new.

A. I don’t know why we even had this conversation.

Q. Well, someone might have laughed.  It was funny.  Figuratively.

Gathering the Ingredients

I was asked recently how I organize my thoughts to write a whole book. Honestly, at the start of a project, my thoughts don’t seem very organized so I had to think about this. How do I organize my thoughts? Given that I should probably start working on my next book, it’s a very good time to answer this question.

Let’s pretend I want to write some sort of fluffy romance. I’ll need three main ingredients: a man, a woman, and an obstacle.

Who is the man? And I don’t mean his name. If I tried to start with names, I’d never get anything written.  I mean what qualities are going to make him attractive to the woman? Is she interested in someone who feels responsibility towards younger siblings because their dad died when he was a teenager? Or someone who quietly pulls off epic pranks that no one ever realizes he’s behind? I’ll need to think about who else is in his life. Is someone bugging him to “settle down” or just giving him a hard time about that thing he does that irritates everyone? These minor characters are especially important if I’m writing a series.

Who is the woman? I’ll name her later, too. How is she attractive to the man in my story? Is she self-conscious about the fact that her hair sticks up at a hint of static or that she once went bowling and hit pins three lanes to the right? Who in her life is going to keep her humble with these things? Does she have family nearby? If she’s living with her parents, they might be a bigger part of her story. One of her friends should probably be set up to be the woman in the next book, that way she already has a name.

And now what is the obstacle? The story is over on page two if there is no obstacle to the relationship. Sometimes the problem is simply that they just met. Even the most hopeless of romantics knows love doesn’t happen on sight. But variety is good so sometimes the obstacle is fear. Is this a story where neither wants to be the first to admit feelings? Is it a story where someone was hurt in the past or someone else is insanely stubborn? Is there a miscommunication that absolutely cannot involve the words “Now what were you going to tell me?” Maybe a bad first impression is the obstacle. Thank you, Jane Austen.

What if I want to write something other than light romance? I guess I’d have to organize my thoughts around some other ingredients. I hope one of them isn’t dirt.

Truth is Stranger Than Fiction

In my newest book (Simon’s Mother), a character (Grandpa Will) shares a story of a time his truck was accidentally stolen. This is loosely based on a true story. I changed a few details to fictionalize it. The real vehicle stolen by mistake did not have a broken gearshift. That was a different true story. Sometimes the most unbelievable things in my books are the things I didn’t make up.

While I don’t currently have plans to use these ideas, I have observed things just in the last two weeks that may one day make it into a work of fiction. There is a house I pass regularly with a truck cab propped up on stilts in the middle of the large front yard. My kids have asked me what in the world is going on there, and I don’t know the answer. But I think I could have fun inventing a reason it’s there.

Another house has a line of cement blocks in the yard. These are not decorative stones – some are even broken – yet they are lined up on their sides like a giant is playing with dominoes. I can picture someone doing this as part of some sort of challenge. I can also picture someone breaking a toe trying to tip them over like dominoes, and then having to explain the limp.

I was driving home on a highway I only travel a few times a year. The name of my exit had been changed so I almost passed it. There are no numbers on this highway, though there is a toll. If I ever need a character to get lost or be late somewhere, this is now a plausible excuse. As is the indignity of paying a higher toll because someone randomly changed the name of a street.

I don’t even have to drive to see potentially funny things. I now know eight different ways teenagers can play with an old curtain rod. If a future character is ever mercilessly mocked for commenting that a tiny piece of trash “looks like fun,” or for saying “good thing that was plastic” right before sweeping up tiny shards of glass, it’s possible I didn’t make that up. And if I ever have a character who uses a horrendous mouse that jumps backwards every time she uses the scroll wheel but she’s so used to it she doesn’t really notice it until someone else sits at her desk for a minute and threatens to hurl the thing across the room… well, sometimes I need to pause to thank God my life has so much joyful inspiration.