Plotting Angst

So, it’s been an unexpectedly busy couple of weeks in the writing department.

I did get the expected rejection slip for Dajoën.  It’s kind of funny — the editor said she “enjoyed reading it”, then proceeded to suggest it needed a plot and/or a hook.  Which is pretty much the standard criticism of the piece, and exactly why I’ve gone and rewritten it a half-dozen times, over the years.

Come to think of it, “needs a plot” and “needs a hook” are the standard criticisms of all of my writing. 

Anyway, in anticipation of that rejection slip, I gave both the original and the latest version of the story to my writing teacher and asked him to explain to me why people liked the original more than the latest, despite the fact that latest is considerably more of a story.  And boy did he earn his money.  I knew it would be brutal, but the reality of it was a little more than I had prepared myself for.

On the other hand, I think I finally understand what I have been hating about my writing, in recent years.  And that’s worth some pain.

So, this weekend, I’ve been trying to work out a plot for something I can do as a web novel.  I continue to be unwilling to consider Distance for that purpose, despite my new resolve.  So I’ve been trying to take an older story and work it into something usable.

And, after lot of back and forth, trying to come up with a plot I don’t consider cringe-worthy, I think I’ve come to a realization: I consider all my plot ideas cringe-worthy.

One of the reasons Distance has been stalled where it is for so long is that I decided — fairly early on — that the idea was too small.  I guess I was tired of being accused of never having a plot, so I was determined to come up with one.  And I did, sort of.  Problem was, I never liked it.  Distance was meant to be a coming-of-age story, and trying to tack on a big plot . . . well, made it feel decidedly . . . hackneyed.  And I hate that.

For me, writing is about the characters.  You start with characters, put them in a scenario, and see what happens.  Problem is, in my attempts to come up with a plot — in advance — I’ve either gone with a huge scenario (to which I can’t do justice), or I’ve made caricatures instead of characters in order to get them to do what the plot requires of them.  And I hate that, too.

My writing is intimate and personal.  That’s what I like about it.  And starting from anything but characters is a sure way to kill a story for me.  I don’t know why I took me so long to figure that out . . . .

So, maybe Distance isn’t so dead after all.  And maybe, if I start from the characters, I’ll find that CEA (the other story) isn’t so dead, either.