Speaking of short stories, I’ve been thinking a lot about the creative process lately. Maybe too much, because over-thinking and over-analyzing can make you stilted and self-conscious in your craft.
But anyway, I’ve been mulling over where ideas for stories come from. Does everyone get ideas for stories? And, if so, what form do those ideas take? Why do only some people write the stories that occur to them? I mean, I understand why everyone wouldn’t choose to publish everything, but just the process of writing those stories out…there’s something satisfying about that, something that completes the thought.
And yet, once the story is written, it dies out of my brain. So in one sense, putting the dream or fantasy into a story form almost spoils it….
Hm.
Maybe spoils isn’t the right term. But it changes it. I can’t read my stories and enjoy them in the same way that I enjoyed the initial idea or dream. Once it’s in story form it becomes technique and craft and stops being a dream or a fantasy or whatever story ideas are.
I can’t see my stories as others do. No writer can. Which is natural. But also weird.
Anyway, there are a lot of yellow jackets and bees in the yard right now -- they get very aggressive this time of year -- and as I was splashing around in the pool the other day, I suddenly remembered an essay I’d read years ago by Elizabeth Choi. It was about a woman (Choi) on a hiking trip with her boyfriend. She gets stung by a yellow jacket and discovers the hard way that she’s allergic. That experience changes her negative feelings about marriage and her antipathy toward commitment.
So I was thinking about bees and bee stings and wondering if I too might be allergic and not know it, and inevitably a story began to unfold in my mind starting with a first line.
“About last night,” I began awkwardly.
There I floated, staring up at the clouds moving across the sky, and I began to wonder what this particular situation would entail where one guy -- probably the “I” character -- gets stung by a bee, and how or why it would make a difference in his life and his relationship with….
With Grahaem.
Grahaem handed me the red plastic coffee cup. Steam rose from the fragrant liquid.
“Yeah,” he said. No particular inflection, but I knew my worst fears were confirmed.
Worst fears about what?
Well, obviously I need to write an entirely different story from Choi’s essay. So the point of the story must change and the narrator can’t be the one who doesn’t want to be in a relationship. Which means Grahaem must be. Which means that “I” (what is this guy’s name?) does want the relationship.
Or does he?
Yeah, he does.
Okay. That’s sort of sad. Why doesn’t Grahaem want “I” when I is such a cute, funny, sweet guy? Why are they out camping -- which they must be if the steaming coffee is being served in red plastic cups -- if Grahaem doesn’t want “I”?
Oh. Because Grahaem does like “I” a lot but he’s already been in a relationship. The best relationship anyone could have. The perfect relationship. With…
Jase.
Who is dead.
Poor Grahaem.
He’s already had the best that love has to offer. How can poor “I” compete? Plus the pain of losing that ultimate perfect love is enough to make anyone terrified of risking it all again. And “I” (what is his name?) isn’t anything like Mr. Perfect AKA Jase.
And there it is. Not enough of a plot for a novella. Just a short story about a day that changes everything for Grahaem and…whatever the hell his name is. An awful day. A day where everything goes wrong that can possibly go wrong including anaphylactic shock. And yet, despite it all, everything turns out well. A perfectly awful day…a perfect day.
Perfect Day.
And that’s it. Away I go, spilling it out as fast as I can without stopping to correct or fill in the blanks because it’s crucial to get the bones down before it all starts to slip away.
I sipped the coffee and stared at the meadow the blue tent the fields of gold beyond that in the early morning mist looked like a golden lake in the distance.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
From the beginning -- practically the beginning -- from the first night I’d spent at Grahaem’s X apartment he’d said he didn’t want anything serious. Not looking for anything serious. Not looking for a relationship.
It didn’t get much clearer than that.
But the problem was Grahaem was everything I wanted.
He was thirty seven and a geologist. Okay, geology wasn’t part of the dream man job description. In fact, I’d always pictured my dream man more GQ than Field and Stream, but Grahaem with his slow grin and gray eyes -- gray, not blue or green -- and that little touch of silver in the dark hair at temples and his wide shoulders and narrow hips and his confident straight stance like an old time explorer surveying the vistas -- with his easy laugh and his maps and compasses and soft flannel shirts.
Short story long, I guess. I fell in love.
Despite my best intentions. Despite his warnings.
I fell in love.
And that’s how a story begins.
Wow--I will begin there--I want to float in the pool with you so you can tell me stories--is that too much to ask?--probably!
ReplyDeleteYou said: Once it’s in story form it becomes technique and craft and stops being a dream or a fantasy or whatever story ideas are.
And that is where I think you hit the nail on the head--I think that is why many people who have what could be admittedly wonderful stories floating in their heads are stopped cold in the process of writing. For some I think the process is simply too daunting; for others, I think the process is like a "little death". While it is exciting at first, the more it pulls us into the sterile and cold world of formatting and punctuation is the moment it begins to suck us dry--till that magically blissful place in our heads where we imagine and dream big dreams becomes nothing more than a depository for half written stories. AHHH--but some of us are strong and we muscle through the desert of editing and rewrites and come out into the verdant pastures of a published work. I venture to say that writing---(let's be clear) good writing demands more than it's pound of flesh from the writer. Many are simply either unwilling to make the sacrifice or unable to stay the rocky and ofttimes rough course.
I'm awfully glad you chose to stay--I think many of your faithful readers might echo that statement.
Well, I've been asked several times if I've written anything, or have aspirations to become "a writer". The honest answer is "No". Really! I don't really know why, but as much as I love to read, the creative fire just isn't there for me. Now, I do love to write my book reviews, and yes, I have seriously wondered if there's any way to turn that into a career at times.
ReplyDeleteThanks for sharing your process, Josh. I really enjoyed seeing how your brain works, and I would love to read about Grahaem and the mysterious "I" down the road!
Traci, one thing I wonder about is even when I was a little kid -- I mean really little (4? 5?) and way before I thought of being a writer -- I would tell myself stories. So I wonder if other people, non-writer people, do that too? Even if they don't think of it as storytelling?
ReplyDeleteWhy DO some of us write stories? What is that compulsion?
Of course, again, maybe thinking about it too much is not a good idea.
ReplyDeleteFor some I think the process is simply too daunting; for others, I think the process is like a "little death". While it is exciting at first, the more it pulls us into the sterile and cold world of formatting and punctuation is the moment it begins to suck us dry--till that magically blissful place in our heads where we imagine and dream big dreams becomes nothing more than a depository for half written stories.
ReplyDeleteMm. Yes, it's true that while the story is floating in your brain, there's no censoring, there's no critical eye to it, you're just fantasizing (or whatever it is we do before we begin to write). Once we begin to formulate thoughts, we start choosing words, considering images, weighing this POV against that...the whole things changes drastically.
So maybe the challenge is to both capture the initial magic but make it accessible to someone else?
The process fascinates me -- really, everything about writing fascinates me.
Josh Lanyon said...
ReplyDelete"Traci, one thing I wonder about is even when I was a little kid -- I mean really little (4? 5?) and way before I thought of being a writer -- I would tell myself stories. So I wonder if other people, non-writer people, do that too? Even if they don't think of it as storytelling?"
When I was that age I would see whole stories same as you, amazing details, amazing stories, and then I would draw a picture of what was in my head.
I don't know why you write, (but thankfully, you do) and I draw but we both apparently felt the need to create at a very early age.
You started playing with words and structure and I started with shape and light. Somehow the story grows, morphs, into something with it's own life.
Giving birth to something, it has to leave us and go it's own way. Can't stay like it was in our head at the beginning.
That's an interesting creative process! I remember when I used to write short stories (in my mother tongue), the ideas usually first came in a scene that I had in my mind, or a set of dialog I came up with and liked. Then I'd try to figure out what sort of persons would find themselves in that scene or who would say such things and sometimes forced the place the scene in the story :-P For me the impossible task is to link all these scenes and dialog into a proper story - now that takes skills and disciplines.
ReplyDeleteI don't know why you write, (but thankfully, you do) and I draw but we both apparently felt the need to create at a very early age.
ReplyDeleteYes. And it is a compulsion! A comfort and a compulsion both.
For me the impossible task is to link all these scenes and dialog into a proper story - now that takes skills and disciplines.
ReplyDeleteIt's often the tedious part. I have lots of bits of stories that are just the fun parts, the big scenes, with no particular linkage. :-D But my brain supplies that, so it's not necessary to write out. Unless you hope anyone else is going to make sense of it.
What a great blog! I really like reading your thought process.
ReplyDeleteI write because characters and plots swirl around in my head and are very distracting until I get them out on paper. I love creating. I also was a story teller as a child - I used to entertain my little brother with them, and I even wrote him his very own choose your own adventure.
I was very intimidated by the traditional publishing process (was in college when internet was a baby) and shoved away my dreams of writing for a "practical" job. But I found that my creative side wasn't satisfied with my 9-5 detailed oriented career.
I did a stint with fan fiction and remembered how much I loved writing. I also received feedback that people actually liked reading what I wrote. Imagine that!
I'm now taking some classes and writing everyday. I'm nowhere near having a complete work yet but am really enjoying what I'm learning.
I sometimes wonder if the publshing process will make me feel like I've lost control/touch of my work. I hope not.
I look forward to whatever you create in the future, Josh. Your characters are so real that I find myself thinking of them and their stories for a long time after reading.
Congratulations on writing, Vanessa. Whether you choose to publish or not, the real satisfaction is in the work.
ReplyDeleteI would say that creative control is one of the big issues in publishing. It's a difficult balance between turning out the product the publisher and audience wants -- and keeping your own vision mostly intact.
Josh, I am never disappointed when I pop by and check if you've updated your blog. I'm always entertained by what you say or I learn something which never gets old. I am just a reader-no aspirations to write, though I would be lying if I didn't say that I WISH I could. Have I tried, no-too intimidating. I think I'd just sit and stare at the computer screen.
ReplyDeleteYou are just all kinds of awesome!!! :)
"Does everyone get ideas for stories?" I certainly don't. Write a report, technical discussion, or briefing paper? Not a problem! I can research and put facts together into a fairly decent product, but develop a story as you just outlined? My brain just isn't wired that way. Creative writing classes in high school and college were torture! I envy and appreciate those that can create as you do, but know I will never be more than a consumer.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Helyce. I wish I was better at updates, but I'm glad the ones I do are of interest!
ReplyDeleteSusan, readers-only are a wonderful and rare commodity in this genre. What a dull world it would be if all our brains worked the same way!
ReplyDeleteI love these little snippets and the occasional glimpse at how you work your magic. And it is working... now I really want to know more about Grahaem and "I"! Thanks for sharing this.
ReplyDeleteI have always been a reader. Even before I could actually read, I'd pester my parents to read me stories, and I'd spend hours staring at books and those little squiggles imagining what it could be saying. Needless to say, learning to read was a revelation :).
- Kathy
Thanks, Kathy. I used to do the same. I think that's why I resorted to making up my own stories so early on. ;-)
ReplyDeleteInteresting question, Josh. I'm one of those who lives with constant stories in my head, but I also write, and will always write, whether or not I'm published. I believe that some people have stories and write them, some people have stories but never get around to writing or aren't interested in writing, and some people never get stories at all. But that's just my opinion.
ReplyDeleteI was surprised that the way you come up with stories is so similar to the way I do - a dream, a feeling, an idea and I start wondering why and who and how and then there it is. Somehow I thought your process would be different than us mere mortals. :)
Coming up with stories is easy - it's the writing that is hard. The story feels real and warm and alive, but writing it means having to come up with all these nitpicky details and connecting the dots and it has to have a beginning and a middle and an end and then there's making the words sound good. Eeh. I think it's no wonder so many people never actually write the stories they imagine.
Now I have a question of my own. Since you've teased us with that lovely snippet from "A Perfect Day", are you going to write the rest of it so we can enjoy it?
Kiracee
Hi Kiracee! Thanks for commenting. Yes, I do plan on finishing the story Perfect Day, although it will probably end up waiting until next year. I seem to be slipping behind once again on the eternal list of Things To Do. ;-P
ReplyDeleteThat was a fascinating glimpse into your thought processes, and somewhat reassuring too.
ReplyDeleteI start the same way, idly wondering about something, imagining a scenario and then having to analyze and work backward to make that scenario work. At that point it's time to work forwards and get it all down before the nuances and flavor are lost.
Maybe the creative process works best when our brains are in neutral. I used to tell myself stories every night as a way to relax and fall asleep. Eventually I started writing them down instead.
I still do that. There's no surer way to put myself to sleep. ;-P
ReplyDeleteYou sounded like you were having so much fun when you were putting that snippet together! I enjoyed it as much for that, as for the story itself.
ReplyDeleteI hope you get to have that every day on your sabbatical.
For me, I've gone long periods without writing. The stories are always there, but up until the last year or so I never felt a consistent urge to get the stories on paper. Simply letting the story flow in my mind was enough.
Then the right idea came along, and suddenly I need to be able to touch it in a different way, to see the words and hear the shape of the story as well as see the movie in my head, if that makes any sense.
I'll look forward to seeing these two guys figure things out someday, whenever that is.
Thank you, Nicole. That's the kind of writing I'm looking forward to this sabbatical. No deadline, no real plan for it, just rediscovering the pleasure of writing. Of telling myself stories.
ReplyDelete