When I’m asked how I got my start as a writer, I think back to the winter I began writing. All west coast winters are long and wet, but that winter was the first I’d experienced after being away for four warm sunny winters in Tucson and the Baja. Cooped up inside on endless dark dreary days left me restless.
I filled my evenings reading. A lot. It was an escape. My favourite escapes were book series binge reads. Diana Gabaldon’s Outlander series. Lee Child’s Jack Reacher books.
I became curious.
What was it I liked about those particular books? The answer for me was that those books engaged me so thoroughly that I lost track of my surroundings and all sense of time. It also occurred to me the books I enjoyed most were written from just one person’s point of view.
Curious to know more, I read about the writers whose work I enjoyed and the writing process itself. One author’s process caught my attention. Stephenie Meyer, author of the successful Twilight books, explained that the series sprung from a single scene that she dreamed about.
It got me thinking.
Could a dream, a kernel of an idea, an edge of a thought, be the seed of a captivating story?
I immediately thought of a recurring dream I’ve had since my childhood. It’s not an unusual or unique dream. (Many of the people who’ve read my first book tell me they’ve had similar dreams.) But was it enough for an interesting story?
All that winter I plunked away on my laptop. I fleshed out my tiny idea using the first person perspective. Writing from just one character’s point of view seemed the safest route for a novice writer. I dusted off my university Handbook for Writers, a five-pound Oxford dictionary, and bookmarked a good on-line thesaurus.
As chapter after chapter came together, I convinced myself that not only could I do it, but that it was a captivating story. I studied Strunk and White’s, The Elements of Style, Stephen Wilbers’ Keys to Great Writing, and Donald Maass’ Writing the Breakout Novel. But don’t let that fool you into thinking I’ve managed to incorporate all that collective wisdom. It is, however, a lofty goal.
I’m three books in now and still loving the process. There’s always something new to discover and no end of great books to read and learn from. I feel very lucky to have found something so uplifting and interesting to do on dreary winter days.
Of course, nowadays, every day I’m not writing is a dreary day.
Just before Christmas I made a trip to the liquor store to pick up a few special gifts. While I stood in the fine wines section contemplating the choices, my attention drifted down to a bottle of Amarone.
Last week as I sat at my computer sipping yet another bladder-challenging-sized mug of tea, I puzzled over why my writing had ground to a standstill. I have an outline. I know how the story ends. I know the characters as well as my own family. So why the listlessness, the disconnect?