Number 1 piece of advice for wannabe writers?
They all say it. Bestseller to b-list.
It’s not that easy, is it?
Actually, it is. Writing is easy. Making sense is hard.
I am not really a fan of mysteries (covering my head)…no, not like that! I like mysteries, but I don’t read them like mystery fans read them. Seriously, at the end of the book I’m like, “Who did it? Oh, is that the kid with the limp? Huh, ok.” It doesn’t matter if the kid with the limp was in town when the victim was killed…if you tell me it’s someone, hey I’m not gonna double check your work.
I’m better with thrillers or horror.
Ok, so back to making sense…a lot of people can write, but can you make sense? Can you take us from one end to the other, give us an entertaining story in between and keep us coming back for more? Oh hell, let’s be honest. Can you just get us from start to end without losing us?
Me, right now, I can’t.
I’m not sure what the trick is, or even if there is one. I’ve tried writing from bright point to bright point and filling in the middle…I’ve tried outlining…I’ve tried writing in real time start to finish…I’ve tried writing with someone else…I’ve tried a ton of things but the one thing I haven’t done is found a way to make sense.
Sorry this isn’t more happy, happy, joy, joy. I guess I’m just stuck.
It’s like my lawn mower. We just got a new lawn mower, I’ve never owned one before…and generally I’m a pansy when it comes to power tools of any kind. So, I decide I am not prepared to mow the lawn without someone there to make sure I don’t bleed out from a rock to the thigh or something equally as random and unlikely to happen. Well, then I decide I can’t be a pansy forever so I go out there with a plan to kick some lawn a**. I pull the lawn mower around front and put it in the grass. I stand over the lawn mower, suck it up, and pull the cord. Nothing happens. The problem is that I’m left handed and the lawn mower is set up for a right handed person. So I talk to Day and she comes up with a great idea!
I got back outside again, tie the choke open, and pull on the cord using both hands. (Because if I don’t have to use one hand to hold the choke open I might have a chance to start this damn thing.) Don’t let me keep you in suspense, I didn’t get it started. I pulled and pulled until I gave myself a blister. BUT the only thing my lawn mower did was smoke…
Much like my writing lately.
Now, I will admit to sitting down…to thinking…to recalling my dad when he mowed the lawn…I remember it, the smell, the sound, the sweat on his brow, my mom bringing him a glass of water filled with ice…I admit to sitting down and thinking and thinking and thinking until I remembered something important. Dad ALWAYS started the lawn mower on the sidewalk.
I went outside…this was long after the sun went down…pulled that damn thing up on the sidewalk…and started it with the first pull.
No…if only I could figure out that one thing I’m missing in my writing. That piece of information or strategy or SOMETHING that makes it all come into play…that makes it click…that makes…