I haven't written anything at all new in my novel. Nothing. Of course, with death, I think it's understandable to put your best laid plans aside to deal with the fallout. The space, however, is giving me time to think about how in the world I can be less than a thousand words into a project I'm so excited for, and I believe so strongly in, and also feel so completely lost. I think many established writers would say "That's just how it goes some days." And that's true, but it's early enough in my process to still adjust my sails.
I'm sure I've stumbled upon the problem. I don't like the answer, and it's one that has been whispering in the back of my mind for months now that I have dismissed as being an Inner Critic, but if I have any hope of writing this novel, I have to tackle this problem head-on and fix it. I, um, don't like writing novels. I'm a short story writer. I do not have the patience or the stamina to write 100k words of one story, dealing with weeks of building an arch, character development, and all that other such-and-such that takes forever to drag out. I'm not an endurance writer; I'm a sprinter. I want to do all of those things, the arch and development stuff, but once I start telling a story, I want the whole thing out of me and ready to be polished in a week or two.
I think it's 40% impatience, 60% excitement. Once I'm inspired, I want to stop everything I'm doing and get that beauty out of my head and ready to share with the world. Short stories are clearly my best suited length of writing, and if I'm being honest here, they're my favorite to read, as well. There's something so brilliant about telling an entire narrative in as few words as possible. Maybe a percentage of that can also be attributed to being an INTJ. I greatly value efficiency, and as a writer, I prefer to treat words like currency--only to be spent if absolutely necessary. ("Purple prose? Humbug!")
Let's be clear, though. I'm in no way trying to suggest that it's easier to write short stories than it is novels. To be able to be frugal with words and still telepathically deliver the images in the writer's head to the reader's head is practically an art in itself. It's probably easier to ramble on for page after page describing everything down to the hue of the veins on the underside of the leaves, just to make sure there's no question in the reader's mind that the leaves were crimson. Not magenta. Not carmine. Not sanguine. Crimson. I, as a writer, just have no need to exert that sort of control over my reader. There's a tree. You've seen a tree, haven't you? If I write "the protagonist sat under the shade of the tree, fall leaves cascading around her," I trust my readers are intelligent enough to envision a tree. And maybe their tree is more grand and elaborate than the one I had envisioned, or maybe it's a tree from their childhood that used to have a tire swing they loved to play on. And now this tree that the protagonist is under carries an added meaning to the reader I couldn't have possibly written. To write short stories, to use the light hand with description, is to put so much power in the hands of your reader, and that, as a creator, is not easy to do. This doesn't even scratch the surface of the skill it takes to set up characters that are both easy to relate to and also put them in situations where they've gone from one person to someone else entirely in the course of a thousand words.
(Can we take a minute to appreciate the hypocrisy that I'm droning on about how important to me it is to be succinct?)
There's the rub, though. Length. That's what's tripping me up and is showing itself to be my big mental roadblock that I have to get past to finish this novel. I need to break it up into a series of short stories. In order to do that, I am going to have to give myself permission to segment the life and experiences of my protagonist, Elizabeth, into bite sized chunks that may or may not connect seamlessly once the whole story is assembled. Once all of the short stories are written, the revision process will begin and I can work to "superglue" the short stories into a coherent novel. Or I might not. Who knows? I may decide to shop the book around as a collection of short stories that individually outline the life of Elizabeth. Heh, it would certainly be unique! I just know that if I have to look at writing this novel as a marathon, I'm going to burn out quickly. I need sprints. I need shorts burst that could all be standalone stories if necessary, because that's how I write. That's my skill, my craft, and my passion. This approach may be unorthodox, but I again think established writers would agree "Do whatever it takes to get the story out." So I am. And in between the individual shorts stories that will eventually comprise my novel, I'm also going to work on my other shorts stories (currently three: Forgotten God, which has now had its first revision, Port Starboard, and Bet You a Kiss) to continue submitting work to other literary journals or magazines.
It's a relief to figure out what wasn't quite working for me, and be confident enough in my ability as a writer to shift gears into a method that will produce writing that is more Nicole and less Everyone Else With A Typewriter. My motivation is refreshed and I'm looking forward to making progress again.
