The Experience of Writing

As a writer I get to experience the world in a unique way - or I should say in many unique ways. Part of the pleasure for me is the detective work of getting to know my characters 'inside-out' and seeing their worlds through their eyes.

Diana and I travelled to the historic Gold Rush town of Barkerville, BC this week as part of my research for Stained Glass. The question we encountered all the way up the famed Cariboo Wagon Road was: "Barkerville in March? Who goes to Barkerville in the winter time?"

A writer and an artist, that's who!

Wandering around the deserted, snow clogged streets of the town gave me an idea of what the main characters in Stained Glass might have been seeing and feeling during a winter sojourn in their remote community. That sense of 'being there' is essential, and for me making that connection between then and now, me and them, here and there is the groundwork for a successful story. It's also fun, in a quirky sort of way.

Sources and inspirational techniques for me include:

• Actual trips to settings where a story takes place;
• Conversations with people who have lived the life you're writing about;
• Visits to the library and the archives;
• Meditations on the lives of my main characters;
• Enactments, where I become the characters I want to write about;
• Collaborations with people who are in the roles you want to portray.

The secret is: You really have to like engaging in these kinds of activities. It has to be fun. You have to laugh when people ask you questions like, 'Barkerville in March? Are you nuts?' And sort of agree that you are.

Before you write: Believe!

Don't touch paper with the nib of your pen until you truly believe what you are about to write.

That seems a pretty obvious bit of advice. I mean, who - other than a forger or some other variant of liar - would write stuff for public consumption that they don't really believe? Why would anyone want to mislead readers by creating an illusion, where non-existent characters are depicted in imaginary settings, carrying out deeds that never occurred?

If you're thinking smugly that as a novelist you're actually supposed to do exactly that kind of thing - write about stuff that never really happened - think again! To write a great story the action has to be real. The people, places and events have to be believable. More than that, they have to be believed in by the creator of the story: me, the writer.

First and foremost, I have to believe in my characters. Again, seems pretty obvious, but sometimes I start writing before I've really gotten to know the key people. Which brings me to an important qualifier when it comes to believing: it's easy to think you're writing with conviction, when in fact you're not...

Huh?

You can think you're writing with conviction when you accept a lower standard of truth than what is necessary to bring a character to life. If I content myself with insipid, ghostly manifestations of my main characters, I will likely end up with flaccid, predictable story. My characters either won't do anything genuinely surprising, or they'll do surprising things that stretch the bounds of credulity beyond the breaking point.

To know my characters well I have to live in opposition and agreement with them, the same way my shared moments of anger and assent with siblings, friends, lovers and bosses deepens my understanding and appreciation of the real people I know. The moral fiber and will of my characters has to be tested. I have to talk to them and expect answers that come from a source mysteriously external to myself.

I also have to be convinced of my own ability to write the story. If I don't have any doubts at the outset, there's a pretty good chance the story I'm thinking of writing isn't worth the ink, paper and sweat I'll expend on it. if a story idea doesn't challenge the notions of who I am and what I'm capable of as a writer, can I really be excited by it? And if I'm not excited, will any reader be? I don't think so.

The trick for me is to look at the monumental scale of the story I'm embarking on; be truly awed by it, and doubtful of my own ability to pull it off; then to convince myself that I can indeed write the damn thing - in fact, convince myself that I'm the only guy who can.

Then I'll be able to write with conviction.

If all this sounds a little bloated - like the balloon of ego swelling inside your skull - good. That's because, if you're like me, you have to convince yourself that you have a talent which is meant to be shared - that you are, in fact, a writer - and that part of being a writer is doubting, then overcoming doubts with works of fiction that make you a little more than you were before with every written page.

That transformative cycle of self doubt overcome by conviction will always be uncomfortable... and exhilarating.

Eureka Moments!

Flickr photo by Partricia Drury

I am often asked where story ideas come from. I don't really have a pat answer. I've come to see myself as a sort of literary hunter-gatherer, constantly scanning his environment for clues. Dozens of others might walk past the tell-tale signs of a potential story, but they don't see it. What appears ordinary and uninteresting to them strikes me as fascinating, sometimes thrilling.

A couple of examples will illustrate my point.

My next novel, Stained Glass, sprang almost fully formed from a single line in the Oxford History of Christianity. I happened to be reading that stupendous tome in preparation for another novel I was working on called Caution: Prayin' Ahead. One sentence, in the chapter dealing with the medieval church, noted a furor that was created in a French town when the local harlots offered to fund the installation of a stained glass window depicting Mary Magdalen.

I'm sure hundreds, possibly thousands read that line and passed it over without a second thought. I whooped and laughed out loud, knowing then and there I would have to write a novel based on it. My version of Stained Glass will be set in the rough-and-tumble gold rush town of Barkerville, BC, but the trail leads back to that single reference in the Oxford History of Christianity.

Just the other day I was chatting with my father-in-law Fred Durrand. Fred retired years ago from a long career as Municipal Clerk with the town of Central Sannich. A great conversationalist, he has many stories to tell about: growing up in Revelstoke, BC; his experiences as a dispatch rider in the Second World War; and his career in municipal government.

His latest was about a fellow who rolled up to the Central Sannich municipal hall in a Cadillac and stumped into the office to complain about his neighbour - a woman, who insisted on hanging her clothes on a line, thus blighting the view out his back window and lowering his property values. The guy had recently moved from Oak Bay, a well-heeled jurisdiction where such Plebian offenses were firmly discouraged by law. Informed that no such injunctions existed in rural Central Sannich, and that anyone could let their shirts and panties flap in the breeze, the fellow stumped back out again - an unsatisfied rate payer.

A few days later, his sheet flying neighbour showed up in Fred's office in tears. The complainant had taken to lighting up a bonfire in a barrel whenever she hung her laundry, and stirring the cauldron vigorously to get as much soot and ash flying as possible. Carried on the prevailing wind, this malicious pollution would soil her freshly laundered clothes and linens, making it impossible for her to use her clothesline.

Fred's reminisce will become my next Two Minute Story, called The Clothesline.

Introduction

Next time you sit down at your computer to bash out a short story or - god have mercy on your soul - the first episode of a full fledged novel, stop! You're not ready! Don't do it!

Writing isn't about getting words onto a page. It's about exploration of self, character, setting, symbol, plot, structure, style... It's a way of experiencing the world and inciting readers to laughter or tears through the magic of your story.

Getting to that magic is the essence of good writing. Too often we are in a hurry to see words on paper, to format them, edit them, fire them off to publishers. We make the mistake of thinking that writing is about the physical act of scribbling words on pages or setting neat columns of type on a computer screen.

In a results-oriented world this isn't surprising. When was the first time you were told to 'stop daydreaming'. Were mom or dad frustrated because they wanted you to get into the car 'right now, Mister!'? Or was a teacher frustrated that you weren't paying attention to what was etched onto the board? Or did your boss catch you staring off into the distance in your cubicle?

We have been trained not to daydream, not to enter that realm where magic happens; the job ahead of us is to train ourselves to daydream effectively. You can use other words if you want: remember, envision, imagine, and so on. It all amounts to the same thing. As writers we need to engage in purposeful daydreaming so that we can make our visions real to enchanted readers.

First, though, it has to be real to you. We have to know our characters: have lived inside their skins, spoken in their voices, suffered their betrayals and committed their sins. Only then are we ready to actually sit down and write anything other than a sketch or outline.

The topic headings to this blog all point back to this introcution for now. But in the coming weeks, months and possibly years, we will be expanding upon them - and adding to the list - so that as StoryBuilders we will have a fantastic resource to share.