Some days I feel like words just flow so freely from my fingertips as I type out dialogue and set up scenes and conflict, but those days are too few and too far between sometimes. Maybe it has something to do with my busy days and short nights to myself. Or maybe my word cup is only filled so full for a certain period of time and I can write and write and write, but when the cup dries up I must wait for something to fill it up again. I wish that I knew what filled up that cup. I wish that I could say "Super-size my cup please and fill it as full as it can go."
I think one of the biggest things that fills up my word cup is the proper amount of sleep. I get less than the recommended number of hours most nights, so that can dry up my words quicker than anything.
I also think that being too busy can suck the words out of my brain. It's not that I don't have a few spare minutes, even sometimes an hour, to write, but when I get a sizable chunk of time to sit at my computer and allow my mind to wander through the story and carefully unfold the plot as I go words tend to flow a lot faster and a lot more cohesively.
Being in public helps too. I can listen to real dialogue and remind myself that people don't talk the way that I write most of the time. And I can watch people interact with each other and their surroundings and try to understand how they navigate through life.
These things really do help my story develop from the feeble meanderings I come up with in my brain and make it into something that people might actually believe.
It's not hard to convince people to stretch their minds around new concepts and things that have never been seen before, after all just last night I was in a sold out theater watching a movie about a sparkly vampire, but if I don't base my story in some sound life models the story holds no weight.
Showing posts with label character development. Show all posts
Showing posts with label character development. Show all posts
Friday, November 16, 2012
Wednesday, November 7, 2012
National Novel Writing Month inspirations: Nov. 7
I am really getting into "NaNoWriMo" so far and loving it! As of the end of the day yesterday I should be at the 10,000 word mark. I am a little short of that mark, but making huge strides to make up for lost time! I am at just over 7,000 words.
Here is a funny antic-dote for your enjoyment from my writing time yesterday:
I went to Starbucks to sit and write yesterday. I love the atmosphere of coffee shops, and they always seem to give me some great inspiration and writing enthusiasm that I don't get as much at home alone. I was there for almost 3 hours. So I was chugging along through some seriously good inspiration, writing some good dialogue, ignoring the people around me when I realized I was making facial expressions that my characters would make while saying the things I was writing! I'm sure my fellow patrons were highly entertained by my looks of confusion, excitement, discomfort and shock as I wrote some intense dialogue between two of my characters!
Am I the only person who visualizes what their characters would look like as they interact with each other or is this something most writers do? Sometimes I feel like a freak for the way I get into what I'm writing. My heart starts to race for them, my stomach drops, and my brain and fingers struggle to keep up with the rapid movement of the characters who come alive in my imagination.
I would love some input from anyone on something. There is a character that I am struggling to name and visualize. She is a harsh, abrupt girl, with a sharp, sarcastic tongue and little regard for the feelings of others. She is calloused and very rough around the edges. She will likely end up either ostracized from a group or she will come to her senses and change. I haven't decided her end yet. What does a girl like that look like to you, and what do you think her name should be? I have her noted as Caroline, but not planning on sticking with that name.
Here is a funny antic-dote for your enjoyment from my writing time yesterday:
I went to Starbucks to sit and write yesterday. I love the atmosphere of coffee shops, and they always seem to give me some great inspiration and writing enthusiasm that I don't get as much at home alone. I was there for almost 3 hours. So I was chugging along through some seriously good inspiration, writing some good dialogue, ignoring the people around me when I realized I was making facial expressions that my characters would make while saying the things I was writing! I'm sure my fellow patrons were highly entertained by my looks of confusion, excitement, discomfort and shock as I wrote some intense dialogue between two of my characters!
Am I the only person who visualizes what their characters would look like as they interact with each other or is this something most writers do? Sometimes I feel like a freak for the way I get into what I'm writing. My heart starts to race for them, my stomach drops, and my brain and fingers struggle to keep up with the rapid movement of the characters who come alive in my imagination.
I would love some input from anyone on something. There is a character that I am struggling to name and visualize. She is a harsh, abrupt girl, with a sharp, sarcastic tongue and little regard for the feelings of others. She is calloused and very rough around the edges. She will likely end up either ostracized from a group or she will come to her senses and change. I haven't decided her end yet. What does a girl like that look like to you, and what do you think her name should be? I have her noted as Caroline, but not planning on sticking with that name.
Friday, November 2, 2012
Day 1&2 because I am constantly playing catch up
I started this journey to write a novel in a month. Yesterday was day 1. I was excited because Thursdays are usually one of my least busy days. Little did I know life had a different plan for me. I knew I was meeting with someone at 4 and figured it should only last about an hour or 2. A last minute phone call changed that 4 o'clock meeting to a 7 o'clock ministry event and possibly dinner after. The meeting is for a college ministry that I am getting involved in. I soon realized that I am not in college anymore and I am feeling a bit old! But as it turns out it was great! I met lots of people and am even more excited about this opportunity than I was before.
So because of that I got absolutely no writing done yesterday. The 1,667 daily word challenge has now become a 3,334 challenge for day 2. Lucky for me I will have the house to myself tonight! I plan on running an errand or 2 after work, getting take out and having date night with my laptop and Downton Abbey. Some people listen to music while they write, I listen to late 19th and early 20th century British dramas. To each his own I guess!
I wanted to create a short map of where my story starts and where I hope to have it end, with a few ups and downs along the way. As I have learned through my past writing experience, my characters tend to come alive in my mind somewhere along the way and they rarely follow my script! They prefer to laugh at my plans and promptly make their own way through the story, often ending up at a completely different spot than I intended for them.
I quite prefer my characters to play by their own rules. The stories that I come up with are rarely genius by any means and often sound lame even to me. When the characters take control of their own fictitious lives I am released from the pressure of moving the story along. I can allow them to take credit for success or failure, and that is okay by me!
So because of that I got absolutely no writing done yesterday. The 1,667 daily word challenge has now become a 3,334 challenge for day 2. Lucky for me I will have the house to myself tonight! I plan on running an errand or 2 after work, getting take out and having date night with my laptop and Downton Abbey. Some people listen to music while they write, I listen to late 19th and early 20th century British dramas. To each his own I guess!
I wanted to create a short map of where my story starts and where I hope to have it end, with a few ups and downs along the way. As I have learned through my past writing experience, my characters tend to come alive in my mind somewhere along the way and they rarely follow my script! They prefer to laugh at my plans and promptly make their own way through the story, often ending up at a completely different spot than I intended for them.
I quite prefer my characters to play by their own rules. The stories that I come up with are rarely genius by any means and often sound lame even to me. When the characters take control of their own fictitious lives I am released from the pressure of moving the story along. I can allow them to take credit for success or failure, and that is okay by me!
Monday, March 12, 2012
3.12
After saying good-bye, Mel watched Paul walk down the hall to his apartment for just a moment before turning the knob and slipping quietly into her own apartment. She routinely walked to her bedroom, put on comfortable clothes and went to sit on her balcony in the cool evening air.
On her way out she grabbed the pack of Camel's tucked into a vase of fake sunflowers. She rarely smoked anymore. It had been something she had picked up in college but she knew her parents would not approve of her polluting her lungs so she had all but stopped when she moved back home. However, now that she was living on her own, she thought it was okay to sneak a cigarette every once in a while.
Lounging in a patio chair she placed the small stick between her lips and lit it. That first puff was always the best. She sat reflecting on the evening for a while. She wasn't sure what had possessed her to accept the dinner invitation from a man that she had just met. And who was it that he knew at The Collective? That was something she was so curious about. Her mind lingered on that for some time, trying to figure out who he knew and how he knew them. Many of them grew up around here, maybe from childhood or a family friend. But why did he react that way when she questioned it? It was a mystery to her. She didn't know all these girls' stories well enough to be able to guess where they could have met. She didn't remember a guy named Paul coming up in any of their conversations, so maybe he was long since forgotten by the girl and he was still hanging on to something from a time long past.
On her way out she grabbed the pack of Camel's tucked into a vase of fake sunflowers. She rarely smoked anymore. It had been something she had picked up in college but she knew her parents would not approve of her polluting her lungs so she had all but stopped when she moved back home. However, now that she was living on her own, she thought it was okay to sneak a cigarette every once in a while.
Lounging in a patio chair she placed the small stick between her lips and lit it. That first puff was always the best. She sat reflecting on the evening for a while. She wasn't sure what had possessed her to accept the dinner invitation from a man that she had just met. And who was it that he knew at The Collective? That was something she was so curious about. Her mind lingered on that for some time, trying to figure out who he knew and how he knew them. Many of them grew up around here, maybe from childhood or a family friend. But why did he react that way when she questioned it? It was a mystery to her. She didn't know all these girls' stories well enough to be able to guess where they could have met. She didn't remember a guy named Paul coming up in any of their conversations, so maybe he was long since forgotten by the girl and he was still hanging on to something from a time long past.
Friday, March 9, 2012
3.9
She wasn't sure if she should follow her gut and slip her hand out of his grasp, or just go with it. The last time she just went with it ended with her waking up alone in her apartment expecting to be in the company of the guy who accompanied her home the night before. That led to hurt and destruction, but this guy seemed different for some reason. He seemed to sincerely like her. There was something in the steady way he held her gaze and the soothing feeling that his hand was bringing to her hand that traveled to the rest of her body.
She had just made up her mind to pull her hand away when Paul realized what he was doing and quickly pulled his hand away and it disappeared under the table. Mel was relieved to have her hand back, but her skin was itching to have the warmth of his grasp back.
"So what do you do in your spare time?" she asks, trying to steer the conversation back to common ground.
"My family is really important to me, so I try to go back home as much as possible. But other than that I am a pretty laid back, hang out and watch movies on the couch with friends kind of person," he said. As if on cue, as soon as he finished his sentence their food was being placed on the table in front of them. "That looks really good," he said, looking at her plate of chicken and pasta drizzled with pesto sauce.
"It's delicious. Actually I get it every time I come here," she said, realizing how lame her life was. She had always been a creature of habit. She ordered the same dishes at all of her familiar restaurants, stuck pretty close to her usual daily routine, she even had everything in the shower exactly in the same place. It had gotten worse since she lived by herself, where she could control what was moved. "Do you want to try some?" she asked.
"Sure!" he said, "Wow! That is really good. I understand why you get it every time now."
She had just made up her mind to pull her hand away when Paul realized what he was doing and quickly pulled his hand away and it disappeared under the table. Mel was relieved to have her hand back, but her skin was itching to have the warmth of his grasp back.
"So what do you do in your spare time?" she asks, trying to steer the conversation back to common ground.
"My family is really important to me, so I try to go back home as much as possible. But other than that I am a pretty laid back, hang out and watch movies on the couch with friends kind of person," he said. As if on cue, as soon as he finished his sentence their food was being placed on the table in front of them. "That looks really good," he said, looking at her plate of chicken and pasta drizzled with pesto sauce.
"It's delicious. Actually I get it every time I come here," she said, realizing how lame her life was. She had always been a creature of habit. She ordered the same dishes at all of her familiar restaurants, stuck pretty close to her usual daily routine, she even had everything in the shower exactly in the same place. It had gotten worse since she lived by herself, where she could control what was moved. "Do you want to try some?" she asked.
"Sure!" he said, "Wow! That is really good. I understand why you get it every time now."
Thursday, March 8, 2012
3.8
This one may not totally fit in with what I have already written but I had a stroke of possible genius last night and figured I would see where it takes me! So bare with me while I explore this idea. Same basic story, just might be a little different.
The apartment was clean, the bright colored trinkets laid out on the reclaimed wood coffee table, the teal accent pillows neatly placed in the crevice of the charcoal gray couch and Mel was showered, dressed and heading out the door headed for The Collective. It had been a very productive day and she was in a great mood. As she closed the oak door and clicked the deadbolt into place she heard someone walking past the many doors to other apartments in the building. She felt herself tense up a bit. Having never felt threatened or afraid in the years she had lived here, her reaction was curious to her. But there was no time to dissect her feelings now.
"Hey, how's it going?" a deep, clearly male voice said, close to her now.
She turned only to find a scruffy but handsome face about 6 inches above her own. His brown eyes were kind and she saw no threat in them. Racking her brain for any kind of recognition of who he was, Mel came up empty. Maybe he was new to the building.
"Hi," she said with a smile, "Where did you come from?" she asked and then mentally yelled at herself for how cheesy that sounded.
"Well originally I'm from West Virginia, then I moved to North Carolina, then I lived in Alaska for a while but just now I came from my new apartment at the end of the hall," he said with a smile. "I'm Paul."
"Wow! That's a very impressive resume. I'm Melissa, but you can call me Mel. Why all the moving?" she replied, grateful that he just went with it.
"I grew up in West Virginia and was stationed in North Carolina and Alaska while I was in the army," he said, sounding a little smug about it, probably knowing what a man in uniform does to girls. Little did he know, that didn't really do much for Mel. Her dad had been a fireman most of her life and she saw what it did to him. She never wanted to marry someone who had the kinds of issues her dad and his colleagues had developed from the high stress career. Military was even worse in Mel's mind. She was so proud of the men and no one would call her unpatriotic, but it was not something she wanted to be a part of any longer.
"Well that's impressive. When did you move here?"
"I moved to Evansville about 2 years ago and just moved into this building 3 weeks ago. I haven't been out and about much lately though. I work from home now, so I don't have much reason to leave the house most days," he said. "I'm just on my way out to grab something to eat. Would you be interested in going with me so I don't look like a loner alone in a restaurant?"
"Well, you're forward!" she exclaimed taken aback by his boldness.
"I'm sorry. I'm just trying to get to know my neighbors. If you're not okay with it I'll leave you to whatever you were headed out to do," he said with a touch of apology in his voice.
"I'm sorry. Actually dinner sounds great," she said, seizing the opportunity to get to know a guy in her building. Who knows when you might need a handy man around after all.
"Great! Where would you like to go?"
"Um, I don't care. You can choose," she replied.
Soon she was seated comfortably in a lush booth at McPhran's across from Paul and his chocolate brown eyes and lean, muscular body, all thought of The Collective gone. He was a kind and patient man, not even flinching when Mel sent the waiter away twice before finally settling on what she wanted to eat. They talked easily about family and friends and work. Turns out his job is to set up school visits for Army recruiters to speak to high school students about joining the military and other PR type avenues for the Army.
"Were you deployed while you were on active duty?" she asked, not being able to place why she was so curious about his past life as a killing machine for the country.
"Only once actually, to a small base in Turkey for a year. It wasn't too bad. Mostly just patrolled like a police officer would and monitored terrorist activity in the area. Nothing too exciting," he said, judging by her facial expressions that he hadn't lost "cool points" in her eyes. "So what do you do for fun?"
"I like to run, and I actually just started going to this woman's group through my church. But it's not really a church thing, technically. It's hard to explain. It's called The Collective and really we just hang out and talk and eat," she said, knowing that she was on the verge of babbling on and on out of discomfort. And her discomfort only deepened when Paul suddenly sat back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest, avoiding eye contact. "Is everything okay?" she asked concerned.
"Oh, yeah I'm fine. I just know someone who used to go to that. She doesn't really like me too much."
"Who is it?" I ask trying not to seem too interested in his answer. If curiosity killed the cat, I'm glad I'm not a cat because I would be beyond dead right now.
"I would rather not say if that's okay with you. I am trying to distance myself from the whole thing and move on," he said, still avoiding Mel's interested gaze.
"Yeah no problem. Consider it dropped," she said, trying to make him feel more comfortable again. Instinctively, she reached across the table toward him, resting her hand a few inches above his silverware still wrapped in a napkin. "Hey, what else do you want to talk about?" she asked, trying desperately to salvage the conversation she felt like she had a hand in destroying. Suddenly he sat forward and put his hand on top of hers. Mel was so startled she should have pulled her hand away, but something kept her hand glued to the table, warm under his large hand.
"There's something different about you from other girls I know," he said, his eyes locked on hers making it impossible for her to look away.
"How so?"
"I don't know exactly. Most girls would be hounding me trying to figure out who of their friends I know and how I know her and trying every way they know to get more information out of me. But you just except it and move on," he said.
"I mean, don't get me wrong I want to know, but I know there are things in my past that I wouldn't want to talk about so I wouldn't do the same thing to others. I'm not really anything impressive," she said, trying hard to pull her eyes away from his in vain. His hand is still pressing hers lightly into the table.
The apartment was clean, the bright colored trinkets laid out on the reclaimed wood coffee table, the teal accent pillows neatly placed in the crevice of the charcoal gray couch and Mel was showered, dressed and heading out the door headed for The Collective. It had been a very productive day and she was in a great mood. As she closed the oak door and clicked the deadbolt into place she heard someone walking past the many doors to other apartments in the building. She felt herself tense up a bit. Having never felt threatened or afraid in the years she had lived here, her reaction was curious to her. But there was no time to dissect her feelings now.
"Hey, how's it going?" a deep, clearly male voice said, close to her now.
She turned only to find a scruffy but handsome face about 6 inches above her own. His brown eyes were kind and she saw no threat in them. Racking her brain for any kind of recognition of who he was, Mel came up empty. Maybe he was new to the building.
"Hi," she said with a smile, "Where did you come from?" she asked and then mentally yelled at herself for how cheesy that sounded.
"Well originally I'm from West Virginia, then I moved to North Carolina, then I lived in Alaska for a while but just now I came from my new apartment at the end of the hall," he said with a smile. "I'm Paul."
"Wow! That's a very impressive resume. I'm Melissa, but you can call me Mel. Why all the moving?" she replied, grateful that he just went with it.
"I grew up in West Virginia and was stationed in North Carolina and Alaska while I was in the army," he said, sounding a little smug about it, probably knowing what a man in uniform does to girls. Little did he know, that didn't really do much for Mel. Her dad had been a fireman most of her life and she saw what it did to him. She never wanted to marry someone who had the kinds of issues her dad and his colleagues had developed from the high stress career. Military was even worse in Mel's mind. She was so proud of the men and no one would call her unpatriotic, but it was not something she wanted to be a part of any longer.
"Well that's impressive. When did you move here?"
"I moved to Evansville about 2 years ago and just moved into this building 3 weeks ago. I haven't been out and about much lately though. I work from home now, so I don't have much reason to leave the house most days," he said. "I'm just on my way out to grab something to eat. Would you be interested in going with me so I don't look like a loner alone in a restaurant?"
"Well, you're forward!" she exclaimed taken aback by his boldness.
"I'm sorry. I'm just trying to get to know my neighbors. If you're not okay with it I'll leave you to whatever you were headed out to do," he said with a touch of apology in his voice.
"I'm sorry. Actually dinner sounds great," she said, seizing the opportunity to get to know a guy in her building. Who knows when you might need a handy man around after all.
"Great! Where would you like to go?"
"Um, I don't care. You can choose," she replied.
Soon she was seated comfortably in a lush booth at McPhran's across from Paul and his chocolate brown eyes and lean, muscular body, all thought of The Collective gone. He was a kind and patient man, not even flinching when Mel sent the waiter away twice before finally settling on what she wanted to eat. They talked easily about family and friends and work. Turns out his job is to set up school visits for Army recruiters to speak to high school students about joining the military and other PR type avenues for the Army.
"Were you deployed while you were on active duty?" she asked, not being able to place why she was so curious about his past life as a killing machine for the country.
"Only once actually, to a small base in Turkey for a year. It wasn't too bad. Mostly just patrolled like a police officer would and monitored terrorist activity in the area. Nothing too exciting," he said, judging by her facial expressions that he hadn't lost "cool points" in her eyes. "So what do you do for fun?"
"I like to run, and I actually just started going to this woman's group through my church. But it's not really a church thing, technically. It's hard to explain. It's called The Collective and really we just hang out and talk and eat," she said, knowing that she was on the verge of babbling on and on out of discomfort. And her discomfort only deepened when Paul suddenly sat back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest, avoiding eye contact. "Is everything okay?" she asked concerned.
"Oh, yeah I'm fine. I just know someone who used to go to that. She doesn't really like me too much."
"Who is it?" I ask trying not to seem too interested in his answer. If curiosity killed the cat, I'm glad I'm not a cat because I would be beyond dead right now.
"I would rather not say if that's okay with you. I am trying to distance myself from the whole thing and move on," he said, still avoiding Mel's interested gaze.
"Yeah no problem. Consider it dropped," she said, trying to make him feel more comfortable again. Instinctively, she reached across the table toward him, resting her hand a few inches above his silverware still wrapped in a napkin. "Hey, what else do you want to talk about?" she asked, trying desperately to salvage the conversation she felt like she had a hand in destroying. Suddenly he sat forward and put his hand on top of hers. Mel was so startled she should have pulled her hand away, but something kept her hand glued to the table, warm under his large hand.
"There's something different about you from other girls I know," he said, his eyes locked on hers making it impossible for her to look away.
"How so?"
"I don't know exactly. Most girls would be hounding me trying to figure out who of their friends I know and how I know her and trying every way they know to get more information out of me. But you just except it and move on," he said.
"I mean, don't get me wrong I want to know, but I know there are things in my past that I wouldn't want to talk about so I wouldn't do the same thing to others. I'm not really anything impressive," she said, trying hard to pull her eyes away from his in vain. His hand is still pressing hers lightly into the table.
Friday, February 24, 2012
Korey
Known to the girls as the jerk who broke Sadie's already fragile heart. Collectively, they don't know much else about him. Melissa knows more about him than she lets on because it would mean bad things for her relationships. They went to high school together and reconnected later.
Jiuliana had the hots for him for a long time, knows him from a camp they both worked at one summer years ago. He never really knew she existed.
Korey may be anti drinking completely who fell off the wagon once (the night of the incident with Mel) and knows that Sadie has issues with alcohol so that is part of why he broke up with her.
Jiuliana had the hots for him for a long time, knows him from a camp they both worked at one summer years ago. He never really knew she existed.
Korey may be anti drinking completely who fell off the wagon once (the night of the incident with Mel) and knows that Sadie has issues with alcohol so that is part of why he broke up with her.
Jiuliana
Jiuliana:
(judgmental) Never had a boyfriend, but had a crush on Korey for a long time before Sadie came around. Resents Sadie for her constant babble about Korey and their relationship. She pretends that she is happy being on her own,
but is secretly so lonely and terrified this is a permanent state.
Callie
Callie: (gossip) The
know-it-all of the group. She is constantly in everyone’s business and has to
know what is going on at all times. She is deceptive about pumping the other
girls for information, covering it up with “love” and “care”. Possibly the antagonist. Mel has to repeatedly put her in her place and seems to be the only one that will do it. Everyone else is blind to her manipulative ways.
Sadie
Sadie: (alcohol dependency) Recent break up with Korey
always seems to talk about the break up during small group. Everyone secretly
thinks she needs to get over it and stop obsessing about it, but no one will say
anything. The alcohol that she uses to self-medicate from the pain of the breakup is gin of any kind. She usually carries a flask of it in her purse buried beneath the feminine products so no one will find it. Mel finds it at some point, maybe Sadie has passed out for some unknown reason and why the others are busy caring for her, Mel sneaks away to find her purse to see if she can find out what happened. She digs around and feels the metal flask through the lining of the pocket and discovers it. She decides not to tell the other girls, instead she waits to talk to Sadie about it one on one to save her from embarrassment.
Full name: Sadie Grace Bush
Birthday: March 9, 1990s
Appearance:
Archetype: child
Favorite color: lilac purple and light pink
Faults:
Strengths: kind person, love for people, helpful
Phobias: snakes and spiders
Living situation: lives with parents and older half-brother
Married or single: single
Children: none
Socio-economic status: upper middle class, never wanted for anything, but didn't have money lying around either
Strong memories: Breaking up with Korey
Full name: Sadie Grace Bush
Birthday: March 9, 1990s
Appearance:
Archetype: child
Favorite color: lilac purple and light pink
Faults:
Strengths: kind person, love for people, helpful
Phobias: snakes and spiders
Living situation: lives with parents and older half-brother
Married or single: single
Children: none
Socio-economic status: upper middle class, never wanted for anything, but didn't have money lying around either
Strong memories: Breaking up with Korey
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