Oct. 9th, 2009

gillpolack: (Default)
This is not the time of day I usually post. Last night was an unsettled night (healthwise) and there are lurkings in my brain. Being the kind person I am, I feel I have to share them. Grumpily, because it will take an hour or two for my body to settle and decide it doesn't hurt after all. I'm convinced it's going to settle and now all I have to do is convince my body.

Recently, quite a few new and about-to-be-new writers have told me all about their ideas. This is great. Ideas are an essential part of good writing. Exciting ideas mean the reader gets caught up in the emotion as much as the writing. Good stories are wonderful things.

By 'quite a few,' I mean seven. Seven different people who otherwise have not much in common. By 'all about' I mean many, many ideas. I don't mean that I was told stories. Just ideas. Settings. Ideas and settings. A significant number in a three week period. Lots and lots of sentences beginning "One day, I want to write about..." and "I have an idea..."

Having a new book or story out is like a trigger to this kind of conversation, I find. I've never had quite as many ideas thrown at me outside a classroom in such a small space of time as now, however. I want to know if this number grows exponentially with each novel published. If it does, I may need idea-armour.

My first reaction is always "Good. If they have lots of ideas then they have stuff to write about." I start looking forward to good reading in my future, especially when I've seen their writing and know it's good.

Instead of making notes so that they can dip into this wellspring of ideas when they need to, or of sitting down and writing, each these seven quite different individuals have told them. It's like a dam unplugged for almost all of them. "I just need to tell you this one" was the latest comment, yesterday. Maybe one of the seven of them will turn all those gorgeous thoughts into stories. The rest will go away and leave them unwritten.

I suspect we all have in us the need to accept one burbling excitement from our friends now and again. Ideas that need to be exclaimed over because of the urgency with which they present themselves. My advice, however, is that if you find yourself telling a writer more than one idea, you're wasting energy that could be spent writing. And they're not (well, I'm not) going to write your ideas: I have my own for that.

It's not that I don't want to read the stories based on these ideas. I do. In fact, why I don't want to hear idea after idea is that I would much rather read it as a story, told properly. And if it's a novel, why should I have spoilers when I can read the whole thing and enjoy it fully, later on? For yes, four of the seven are writing novels and they didn't just tell me idea and setting, but went into "This is what I want to do to the villain" or "And this is how it ends." They gave me spoilers.

I tell my classes I want to read their drafts and their finished product, but not their ideas. Not unless those ideas are part of a class exercise we're working on. I wish I could tell everyone this. There are thousands of ideas. Maybe millions of ideas. But only one person can tell the one in your head the way you think it and feel it so that it becomes the story you dream of. And that person isn't me.

And yet... and yet... do you know how hard it is to say this to someone with stars in their eyes and a desire to talk about their dreams? Just writing it here feels grumpy. Saying it to a new writer's face is worse. I need ideas. A different sort of idea. Ideas for conversational gambits that will stop new writers watering the concrete by spreading their ideas too thin and start them watering their garden so that good poetry and short stories and novels flourish there.
gillpolack: (Default)
If anyone can stop me singing The Dying Stockman, they will be doing the world a favour. I find myself warbling "A strapping young stockman lay dying, a saddle supporting his head" at the oddest intervals. What's worse, I seem to be singing it off key and with great cheer.

It's all very wrong.
gillpolack: (Default)
I have a post-con virus. I'm not very sick. Just enough to be a nuisance.

This explains the grumbles this morning. I am interspersing my work and my singing with naps. The poor friend who rang up earlier woke me up after one of them. I say 'poor' because she got a grumble and the tail end of a fishy dream.

May 2013

S M T W T F S
   1234
567891011
1213141516 1718
19202122232425
262728293031 

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

  • Style: Midnight for Heads Up by momijizuakmori

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Aug. 25th, 2025 10:13 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios