By Karen Frisch
When writing a novel, I have to remind myself continually to be aware of its length. Before I can say, "Let's let my heroine ruminate a little longer!" I've written a 10- or 12-page scene that might have been done more effectively in seven or eight pages.
I love details. I'm detail-oriented in nearly all aspects of life, which is a polite way of saying I sometimes can't see the forest for the trees. In fact, I prefer the details of the trees because that's where the devil is. Often, so is the heart of the story.
But details can make a writer overlook the whole. For example, my husband is a big picture person who can get us out of an airport quickly and straight to where we're going. In the days before online reservations he might have lost the tickets, except he had me - the detail person who knew not only which pocket they were in, but where to find every item in the suitcase from the tissue packet to the extra pens. The problem was, I couldn't find my way out of an airport without the spouse even with a GPS. I rely on details to guide me - the travel ad with the hero's face, the pizza place with the bright lights, and - of course - those tempting paperbacks we passed.
I suspect detail-mongers prefer to plot heavily beforehand. Since I need details before I can start writing, I tend to overwrite. Consequently, I also have to delete a lot of what I write. (What?! Murder your darlings?) The negative result of being a plotter is that you often find you don't need all that stuff you spent so much time ruminating over, but you can't let it go to waste - at least not without trying to use it.
Cutting words is hard, even when it makes a story better. Unnecessary words, reflections, or ruminations (see what I mean?) waste time and make a writer less productive. Finishing a story makes me happier than wasting time deleting words I spent precious time revising.
The moral of this story is that the words come when you need them and, apparently, even when you don't. They need not be stockpiled. The devil really is in the details. Less can be more. The detail-oriented like me might have to read these words again to get the point, but more time + less grief = productivity X happiness.
Now let me make sure I didn't put too many details in that paragraph about the airport...
When writing a novel, I have to remind myself continually to be aware of its length. Before I can say, "Let's let my heroine ruminate a little longer!" I've written a 10- or 12-page scene that might have been done more effectively in seven or eight pages.
I love details. I'm detail-oriented in nearly all aspects of life, which is a polite way of saying I sometimes can't see the forest for the trees. In fact, I prefer the details of the trees because that's where the devil is. Often, so is the heart of the story.
But details can make a writer overlook the whole. For example, my husband is a big picture person who can get us out of an airport quickly and straight to where we're going. In the days before online reservations he might have lost the tickets, except he had me - the detail person who knew not only which pocket they were in, but where to find every item in the suitcase from the tissue packet to the extra pens. The problem was, I couldn't find my way out of an airport without the spouse even with a GPS. I rely on details to guide me - the travel ad with the hero's face, the pizza place with the bright lights, and - of course - those tempting paperbacks we passed.
I suspect detail-mongers prefer to plot heavily beforehand. Since I need details before I can start writing, I tend to overwrite. Consequently, I also have to delete a lot of what I write. (What?! Murder your darlings?) The negative result of being a plotter is that you often find you don't need all that stuff you spent so much time ruminating over, but you can't let it go to waste - at least not without trying to use it.
Cutting words is hard, even when it makes a story better. Unnecessary words, reflections, or ruminations (see what I mean?) waste time and make a writer less productive. Finishing a story makes me happier than wasting time deleting words I spent precious time revising.
The moral of this story is that the words come when you need them and, apparently, even when you don't. They need not be stockpiled. The devil really is in the details. Less can be more. The detail-oriented like me might have to read these words again to get the point, but more time + less grief = productivity X happiness.
Now let me make sure I didn't put too many details in that paragraph about the airport...