I don’t plan, but then again, surely to some degree I must.
It’s one of those more beard stroking literary subjects -planner vs pantster, and to what degree does one method bleed into the other?
The Pareto principle almost comes to the fore here with 80% saying they plan EVERYTHING on a near scene-by-scene line by line basis.
The balance of the 20%, is again subdivided into 80% writing broad outlines and 20% not.
This then leaves a pitiful 4% of writers as some sort of white-knuckle lightning riding wide eyed no idea what happens next kid of story telling folks.
Me, I’m part of that 4% minority.
And, for me it’s kinda worked thus far.
Thus far…
It’s not that I don’t keep notes, keep track of what has happened so as not to trip myself up with repetition or indeed contradictions – I do keep notes.
I plan little bits, like railway routes, these things are ‘truths’ that artistic license or indeed ignorance discount at their peril.
I had to create a pin map of the USA just to keep track with how Amy Grace was crisscrossing that vast country.
I also have a little subfolder full of Victorian female fashion – a little collection of dresses so that I may adequately describe what my MC is wearing (and why).
However, now I’m trying to write an epic, a true saga, a leather-bound gold leaf embossed heavyweight charting the adult life of one man, his family, his loves his losses and his eventual (and tragic) death; and I MUST plan!
I’ve wedded my tale to immoveable historic events – ergo I MUST plan how to get from event A all the way to Z.
It’s just how far down the rabbit hole of planning do I go?
I’m not looking to create a pastiche of Richard Sharpe – that ship has successfully sailed.
I think that if I stick to the actual timeline and opportunities available, then the need for artistic licence will be reduced, as the actual truth of the events under discussion will be entertaining enough.
I’m starting with the Anglo Egyptian war in the Sudan 1855. This in itself is a wealth of exciting opportunities – the last time British soldiers went into battle wearing ‘red coats,’ the last full cavalry charge (a certain Mr Winston Churchill no less), an army still manoeuvring across the battlefield in infantry squares, and of course the introduction of the machine gun…
So much available…
Will my little writing sanctum sanctorum become a post it note and string madhouse?
Time will indeed tell, but I’m hopeful that I won’t kill the spirit of free form scribbling, and that I’ll still be able to follow the required structure of history.
This is my hope, my dream.
More books need to be read, gaps in my knowledge need filling, but I hope that the finished book lives up to its promise, and that I can do this project justice.
I’ve written a saga in four parts, and it was fun, exhausting, emotionally draining, but immensely rewarding.
Amy Grace has suffered her crime, righted a wrong, and found love.
All for her is as it should be.
New adventures are suggested, but for the time being these can wait.
Thrilled beyond measure I am that I did it, and when you get to read it (and you really should), you will be too.
[Writer takes a bow to polite clapping]
But I want more, so much more.
I’ve always wanted to write one of those novels that are beyond huge, a truly epic historical drama.
The kind of thing that if Peter Jackson were to film it, he’d have to ask you to cut bits out…
And I have such a tale in mind.
I’ve been tinkering with it for years.
The Big House is my working title.
The source material is beyond rich, any seed planted cannot fail than to spectacularly bloom.
Were you to be a soldier, a British soldier to boot, then the 1800’s onwards was a true smorgasbord of adventure.
You have the Zulu’s, the Mahdi in Sudan, the Boer in South Africa, the First World War – and as we are writing from an Irish perspective, we also have the collective tragedies of the 1916 rebellion and the catastrophe of the ‘Civil War’ in the 1920’s.
Cursed to live in interesting times indeed!
If only someone would wrap a tale around all this adventure…
[enter stage left a mild mannered and unassuming writer of tall tales]
This is my aim. The story already exists – it just needs to be captured and put into print.
So, mutterings will follow on matters military, affairs of the heart (our hero finds love early on) and the poison that is jealousy…
It promises to be a good ride!
Stay sane, love the ones you can, and hold on tight to any happiness!
Writing shouldn’t be a chore, it should be an act of passion, an act of love.
That doesn’t mean it won’t be hard, can’t be work, but it must come from a near pathological need to tell the tall tale.
Pain can be suffered by both writer and character, can multiply, and run away with itself for protagonist and creator of the prose…
Art is a struggle, a balance between the voices in your head and the limiting speed with which you can type them out and give them life.
The desire to create doesn’t come without sacrifice, without pain and immense frustration, but nothing can reflect to the world if it hasn’t been written.
The great, the good, the charlatans too, all agree that to be a writer you MUST write!
A simple maxim to state, at times a hard one to live.
If new ones won’t come, read, rinse, and improve those that are already there.
Telling Tall Tales 