Filling the Blank Page — Powered By Tea edition · 8:56pm May 6th, 2014
Recently, I got a PM from Silent Bell of Scion of Chaos fame. He was collecting opinions from various authors about the problem of how to get past the blank page from various writers to put in a blog post
Normally I get very self conscious about offering advice. Who am I to be telling people how they should write?
Well not this time, because I started thinking about this and realised that, well, one thing I’ve never had a problem with is the blank page. No really. That thing where the writer sits down at their typewriter and there’s a time skip and suddenly it’s dark and the wastepaper basket is full of screwed up pages? Doesn’t happen to me. And not just because I don’t own a typewriter.
Finishing things. That’s what I suck at. I have so many unfinished google docs that just tail off to nothing. But starting things? That I can do.
Open with an explosion
Bang!
I’ll never forget this advice given to me by the best English teacher I ever had [1]. Open with an explosion. It doesn’t have to be a literal explosion, just something that changes and disrupts the lives of your characters. To the right character, a wedding can be an explosion.
Explosions, metaphorical or not, stop you dilly-dallying around. I used to do this a lot. I’d start describing the characters having an average day fully intending to get to the interesting part later. Without knowing you explosion, you end up with lines like “it was a beautiful day in Ponyville” as your first line.
Let’s take The Sweetie Chronicles: Fragments as an example. I count four explosions in the prologue. The first is that Sweetie is studying magic and her friends are absent. This is a bit of an explosion as it’s a disruption of the status-quo as we know it and sets up a major theme. Time is passing, Sweetie is growing up, and the endless summer of innocent cutie-mark crusading may be ending soon.
The second is Trixie coming to town and managing to release werewolves because, well, she’s an idiot. It’s pure, dumb action, but it leads to explosion number three…
Sweetie sees Twilight in action, saving her and the town. This establishes a bond between Twilight and Sweetie that will be central to everything that happens later and leads to one of the prologue’s most memorable lines:
“Twilight?” The young filly looked up at the purple unicorn.
“Yes, Sweetie?”
“I really want to learn magic,” the crusader said, looking at the snarling wolves. “I never want to be so scared again.”
It’s an explosion because it represents a change in Sweetie’s outlook. She wasn’t really that interested in the whole studying thing before, but now she’s been inspired.
Finally, there’s the explosion that really is an explosion, where the artifact Twilight is studying blows up and set the rest of the plot in motion.
[1] He was stuffy and tiresome but underneath it all genuinely cared about teaching. This doomed him to teaching lessons that his students probably wouldn’t appreciate until he was long gone. I’m really glad I got a chance to thank him a few years later.
Revisions
The second important thing I try and remember about openings is that I can revise them later, and with good reason too, because the opening is really important. But that doesn’t affect me when I’m starting. That’s future-me problem, and honestly, I hate that guy. He’s always looking back at me with his “hindsight” and calling me an idiot because of all the dumb mistakes I’m making. So yeah, totally his problem.
Case in point, I revised the paragraph above from second person to first person to make that future-me joke work.
If you first sentence is looking a little weak, don’t worry. Write the next. Speaking of which...
Write while drunk, edit while sober
You are the best. No, don’t try to tell me any different. You are literally the greatest thing that ever happened to literature. Everyone else who came before you is a god damn hack. Nobody even comes close to your prowess with the written word. Your readers will lose themselves in your words so deeply they will be late to work, miss important appointments, and, in some tragic cases, forget to breathe. When you get this thing published your idols will look at it, and sigh sadly knowing it’s pointless for them to ever write anything ever again. Upvotes will fall down upon you like raindrops in a thunderstorm. World peace will be achieved as former enemies come together to appreciate the thing of beauty you created, tears in their eyes.
No really. Maintain this attitude and you’ll be more productive. To achieve this state of mind, upon writing anything that is even remotely clever, congratulate yourself over it. That line of dialogue you wrote is so very in character, that little joke you put in will have everyone laughing.
Engage in a little creative self deception. You can be humble latter. It’ll make you bolder, which can be good. You can sort the genuinely good ideas from the stupid later [1].
I hate to admit it, but this attitude actually comes quite naturally to me, at least for the first thousand words or so of something new. This may be my problem, to be honest. The more I write, the higher the probability that my eyes stray up the page and: “Sweet Celestia, what was I thinking? This scene doesn't work at all!”
[1] Hopefully. Some might still make the through. *cough*squirrelspaceprogram*cough*
Dialogue—Paragraph—Dialogue
Here’s a trick:
“Applejack, what in Equestria are you doing!”
Rarity stood, head still half poked through the barn door, staring at her friend. The summons from Princess Celestia drifted down, momentarily half forgotten. Applejack was squatted back on her haunches near a small table covered in what appeared to be a delicate tea-set. Occupying the other chairs were what appeared to be… Rarity’s eyebrows furrowed… a number of apple tree saplings, their roots wrapped up in bags.
“Um…” Applejack’s eyes flashing down to the table and back. “This ain’t what it looks like!”
Write a line of important dialogue, possibly without a dialogue tag, then write a paragraph that gives it context, then write the next line of dialogue. This is one example of a probably a few opening patterns (and the only one I can think of right now) that help lubricate the process of getting through those first few lines.
Formulaic? Maybe, but you can revise later if you want. The important thing is it that if you’re stuck, it gets you going. It's not a blank page any more. The obvious next line is Rarity's response; much less intimidating that the endless possibilities of the blank page.
Can anyone suggest other patterns they use for first-draft openings?
Summary
Know what your opening explosion is. Know how the status-quo is going to be disrupted and start there. Then, don’t worry about what you write because you can come back later. If you’re really stuck use the dialogue-paragraph-dialogue patten to just get things moving. Failing that, it’s hard to go wrong with some sort of in media res opening in your first draft.
So that’s starting. Now I just need to know how to finish things. Silent? I don’t suppose you could do a blog post on finishing things too?
Postscript
Cast Iron Caryatid made this point:
This is good advice, though I'd be less restrictive and just say to just at least start with something relevant. There's a rule in writing that the most powerful parts of a sentence/paragraph/chapter/story are the beginning and the end, and the beginning in particular is a good place to set the tone of it.
The first sentence of Sharing the Night, for example, is "Twilight Sparkle's back itched." This... is not an explosion, even to Twilight.
Which I would agree with. There are always exceptions to every rule, even those laid down by stuffy English teachers with hearts of gold. I’m not going to argue semantics and try twisting my definition so it looks like I was right all along. An itchy back is not a major disruption (although by the end of the chapter...). If you have a good reason to do something different then do something different.
Finishing things, huh? Well... that's certainly a good idea. Sure, I'll focus on that topic next.
Sometimes I write like a connect-the-dots picture. I picture a few scenes in full detail, write them down, and then I have to figure out how to link them together. This works better some times than others.
Other times, for dialogue-based scenes, I write like a stenographer. I can hear the conversation and just try to transcribe it until the scene or the inspiration ends. Then I go back add attributions and descriptions as needed to make sure the events are clear for those who don't have the scene in their heads (a.k.a. readers.)
These are by no means my only techniques, but they all revolve around experiencing the major events of the story through my imagination. If I can't picture what I'm writing, what hope does the reader have?
One of the better ways I can start writing is to write a question: "What am I looking at?" "How long have you been there?" "Now where are we?" The circumstances that lead to the question can be added later. At the beginning, that inquiry, that desire to know more, it opens a gap that creative juices flow in to fill. Then I write the answer, the momentum starts, and inertia starts working in my favor. And the rest... well it's not history, but it gets several hundred views.
Hope this helps.
Oh, really? That simple, eh?
2083701
All other things being equal.
2083708
Any suggestions for the vicious self-haters among us, then?
2083300
That sounds familiar, actually. I try my best to experience the story along with the characters as best I can, which can feel quite exhausting sometimes. But when it's time to pick up again I sometimes have problems getting back to the mental headspace of the characters. And if I can't... nothing gets written that day.
Those might be some good prompts to remember for starting, actually. Thanks.
2083715
If that's a serious question... and is it writing self hatred or general self hatred? The latter... friends, I think. And for really serious cases that coincide with general lethargy see a doctor about medication.
For writing self hatred... um... hummm... again tricky. Be kind to yourself... humm. That sounds awfully new age. Ah, I have no idea. I just know that writing is easier when I'm in "the first draft mood."
Sorry.
2083751
When you're having trouble picking a draft back up, it helps to read what you have so far. The visualization should kick-start memories of your mental state when you wrote it.
If that doesn't work or there isn't much to read... well, that's why I try to write an outline when the idea's fresh.
And I'm glad you like the question prompts.
2083715 YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO HATE YOURSELF!
We have a union here. And reasonable rates.
Amateur.
Oh, the post.
I like that.
2084286
The thought that all the people who hate me have organized into a collective bargaining unit for convenience and communication purposes is an unsettling one.
2083792
'Saright. I wasn't expecting a full and comprehensive solution. Beyond that, I really don't want to turn your perfectly excellent blog entry into a pity-me party.