(This column is posted at www.StevenSavage.com, www.SeventhSanctum.com, and Steve’s Tumblr)

All right, so where are we in this extended discussion of how I write my books?  We just covered how I edit my wordspew and it’s time to talk editing.

After revising and revising and revising, my book is eventually “good enough” to be edited. By good enough I usually mean a mix of “this is good” and “oh god I’m sick of this, I’m gonna stop now.”  The latter is usually more prominent than I’d like, but anyway I’m at least at a stopping point.

When I refer to as editing, there’s sort of two kinds I lump under “Editing” because they’re really intertwined.

• Pre-Readers – People who read the book for content.
• Editors – The person or person that goes through the book and makes sure it’s got proper grammar, spelling, etc.  They also comment on content.

Before I go into how I do this, there are times I don’t do any editing beyond my own writing. At least in the past. Let’s take a look at that, if only for confessional purposes.

Let me repeat – this is when I don’t have others edit.  I still edit the hell out of my own work, even if poorly.

When You Don’t Use Other People To Edit

So first of all, I don’t think you should avoid having your work edited. If at all possible, someone should at least pre-read it. However there’s a few cases I can see someone not editing, which I’ve done or at least think I did:

• The work is small, say a 99 cent ebook.
• No one’s available to edit/pre-read and you want to get something out.
• You’ve edited it really, really well.
• The document seems tolerable.
• You’ve got the kind of document (and knowledge) where the editing is easy.  A small work that’s an organized guide that follows an easily checkable pattern, and one you’ve run spellcheck/grammar check on multiple times is a good instance.

I’ve done two published works this way (and hope to revise them with editors and pre-readers when I can). It can work.

But I don’t recommend it. But hey, I gave you an out, and you can always say “but Steve said.”

Now anyway, on with editing.

Pre-Reading

I didn’t always use pre-readers – originally I only did when a book had a lot of interviews and I used them as pre-readers. In time I found that pre-readers were invaluable for insights.

See, a pre-reader isn’t an editor in the traditional/specific sense and that’s good. A pre-reader is a reader. They are not there to edit a book for language and punctuation, even when they do because they can’t resist. They’re they’re for content and flow.

They’ll catch things an editor won’t because an editor, no matter how much they read, is still editing. You really do need both.  Plus it takes a little pressure off your editor –  “Can you edit my terrible abuses on language and tell me if this meticulous battle scene makes sense?”

Secondly, a good pre-reader thinking as a reader can give you feedback on your book to help it become a better book.  They can tell you how it can be more consistent, better organized, and so on.  In turn it won’t just be a better book – that will make the book a hell of a lot easier on an editor. A book that reads easy, even with flaws, allows an editor to go to town as opposed to being stopped by confusing twists or ill-explained concepts on top of Oxford comma arguments?

How do I handle pre-readers?

• I pretty much put out a call among people. I’ve started keeping a list of people to send things too now.
• I give them 1-3 months depending on the size of the work.
• I integrte feedback as it comes in more or less. For small works I may wait – for larger works i put in the feedback as soon as I get it.

Thats about it. Find, send, wait, integrate.

After the pre-reader feedback I usually do another pass through the book. then it’s off to the editor

The Editor

First of all when you get something edited to publish professionally, make sure they’re professional.

That may not mean they’re a professional editor. It means they have professional-quality skills relevant to what you’re doing. It could be from writing their own novels, it could be editing fanfic for ten years, it could be an experienced technical writer. Just get someone who can edit for what you’re doing.

I like to fansource, finding editors through fandom and geeky connections. They “get” me, I often get a break on price, they get their name on a book they like, I act as a reference, everyone wins.

I usually give an editor 1-3 months depending on the complexity of the work and their schedule. It also gives me a nice break, and sometimes while waiting I do extra formatting or setup for publishing.  Or write another book.

When I get the edited document back, I don’t use that document to make the final book – I read through it, page by page, integrating comments and changes into a new copy master document. That forces me to read and pay attention, and makes sure I don’t end up with a book laden with things I forgot to address, remove, or change.

This part usually takes at least a month. My goal, when it’s done, is to have it done.

The Final Read

So once that editing run is done, I do one more spellcheck and grammar check, and read through the book (yes, again). If I find any errors, I fix them – and run that check again.

At this point, having done so much editing, I use that previous trick of reading parts out of order just to keep myself fresh.

My approach is to read it through.  If anything changes in the small I fix it and re-read that chapter.  If there’s any large change, I re-read the book from the start, or at least skim.  I’m done when I do a pass through and didn’t change anything.

Then it’s one more spelling/grammar check.  Then it’s done

Onward To Publishing

So with the book edited – pre-read and edited properly – and with my final read-through’s its done. Ready to go.

It’s time to publish.

– Steve

(This column is posted at www.StevenSavage.com, www.SeventhSanctum.com, and Steve’s Tumblr)

And let’s get back to How I Write with me, Steve.  Who Writes.  This.  And books.  But also this post.  Er.  Anyway, you get the idea.

So to recap I’ve covered how I write up to the point of actually writing.  It was basically:

• I get ideas (and keep track of them)
• I pick ideas to write (based on my plans)
• I outline a book (at times to the paragraph level)
• I write (by pretty much spewing writing into said outline until something booklike emerges)

By the time this is done I have a well-outlined book that is written by a mixture of gut, heart, imagination, and desperation.  The outline provided guidance so the book “works” – in that it reaches a goal – but the results are often less than stellar.

In short, my first draft is usually very first and much draft.  It’s often done with surprising speed, but it’s really not that great.  That means my next step is re-writing.

I hesitate to call this editing since my re-writing is not that subtle an exercise.  Sure, I often have content thats in better shape than it sounds when I call it “word vomit”  – but at best it’s not polished, and at worst parts of the content only worked in my head.  So it’s time to go through and re-write it because sometimes it changes massively.

Which isn’t as bad as it sounds.  Usually.

Re-writing: First Pass

So my first pass on rewriting the book is the most intense.  I go through the book, in order (so I can keep the big picture), and work on:

• Concepts.  Are the concepts in the book clearly presented and defined?  Sometimes I realize the concepts are not clear or coherent (and in a few cases are even wrong).  Sometimes I have to rethink them, detail them, more, explain then.  A recent experience of mine was the “Sex” section on worldbuilding in my Way With Worlds book, I had to really work to tie the core concept together.
• Clarity.  Sure, maybe my ideas were good but did I explain them in a way that made sense?  Sometimes I rewrite so things are clear.  it usually helps to put myself in the shoes of my audience to answer the question “does anyone know what the hell I’m talking about?”
• Spelling and Grammar.  I correct this early – as I go through this first pass I try to correct major spelling and grammar mistakes.  This ensures communication of concept, clarity of concepts, and of course keeps me from being derailed by my mistakes later.  I don’t always run a spellcheck/grammar check at this stage.

Sometimes you have to re-outline chapters or sections in the first pass – and my advice is when you can, do it.  I’ve saved “re-outlining” for later review cycles and it was incredibly painful because so much of the book had “solidified” that changing it was like adding onto a house.  If you have to make major changes, do it first thing or it will be harder later (and may reveal hidden mistakes).

A first pass can sometimes take as long as writing the book in the first place.  There’s no shame in this – really it’s just another part of “writing.”  You’re rarely going to get it right the first time.

So after the first pass, what do I do?

Nothing.

Take a Break

After your first pass, I take a break from the book.  Sometimes a few days, sometimes a week or more, but I try and step away.  I usually need it.

Why?  Because familiarity breeds not only contempt, but sloppiness.

I can get to know a work too well, and then I start seeing what’s in my head, not what’s on the page.

I can get tired and want to just “get through” the re-writing – so I rush it.  This always comes back to bite me.

I also need a break.

So I rest.  I do something else.  I blow up some enemies in Team Fortress 2.  Then I’m back at it with a new perspective.

Re-Writing: Second Pass

Usually after a first pass the book is in pretty good shape.  It may not be “book like” but it’s “sort of a book.”  That intensity in outlining, that instinctive writing, that careful review pays off so later passes are less painful.  If you think about it the book had a solid idea, a solid outline, a massive dump of information, and a later shaping of that information into something clear.

Its usually pretty good – but I always have to make that second pass.

On the second pass I’m focusing on concepts and communication  Did I really say what I want?  Is the order right?  Are things clearer?  Does the book do it’s job?  Is it really what I planned?

If I planned well and re-wrote well, the second pass isn’t so bad – it may even be easy to do – and it’s easy to spot problems.  By now the book is polished enough my mistakes are obvious.  Here I can correct them if I didn’t get them a first time.

In some cases, I may have to re-work a section.  When I’m on to the second pass, I do not do the re-working as a “vomit draft.” I take a much more craftsmanlike approach – taking my time, editing as I go, etc.  At this point since most of the book works, trying to ram ahead and dump a bunch of writing in can throw you off.

The only exception is if a section or chapter has to be completely rewritten – then I may re-outline it, dump it, and edit it separately.

Also at the end I usually run a spellcheck and grammar check, for my sake and for those who may soon see the draft . . .

Other Passes?

I may have to make other passes if the book doesn’t “feel” done or if I keep finding mistakes and thus assume I’ve missed even more.  I keep going through it until it’s done right – often three to five passes.

Looking at a book over and over again can make you miss problems, however – again one can end up reading the book in their head, not what’s on the page.  So here’s how I mix it up:

• I read chapters in backwards order – or even sections of chapters.
• I read chapters that are grouped together as whole units, but in different orders.
• I keep a list of “problem chapters” and review them in whatever order I want.
• I randomly skim to see what pops up.

I keep going until it’s done.  Speaking of, what is done?

Done – Or Done-ish

So at some point I’m done (usually about 3 passes in, sometimes 5).  I consider it “a book.”  That is done by the standard of:

• I can’t find any more problems to fix.
• It feels right.
• I’m sick of looking at the damn thing.

So what’s next?  Editing.  Where the book goes to someone else who then promptly tells me everything I screwed up.

• Steve

(This column is posted at www.StevenSavage.com, www.SeventhSanctum.com, and Steve’s Tumblr)

So lately I’ve been reviewing how I write.  Let’s take a look at where we are:

When I write I usually get a big idea, then I review and record it.  I figure if it’s book worthy if it fits my goals.  Then, I work on an outline (in fact I usually work on that earlier as I’m inspired and want to evaluate the idea).

So how do I write?  I mean I’ve talked about getting up to the point of writing.  So when does it begin and do I actually get stuff done

The above activities set the stage.  I got an idea, I have an outline, I have drive.  All that’s left is basically cut loose.

In short, I kind of vomit onto the page.

Disgusting Metaphors Go!

Actually I’m being a bit facetious.  I have an outline, so it’s not vomiting onto the page, it’s vomiting into a very specific framework that lets the vomit flow into the right form.

I sit down, with my outline, and following the direction it set I start writing.  The Outline provides me enough information to know what to write, and I simply do it.  I rarely take the time to do any editing or revision unless I have to.  My goal is to get from A to B in that outline as best as I’m able, even if it’s kind of crappy, half-assed, or understandable only to me.

(In case you wonder, yes, sometimes I eventually throw things out.  But stick with me – this works)

So what’s the benefit to this?  Quite a bit:

• * First it’s fast.  I can get  a lot done – and the Outline helps that.
• * Secondly, it’s visceral.  It’s from the gut, the brain, the feelings, whatever part of me is currently engaged.  It’s near automatic.
• * Third, it’s disinhibited.  The worst enemy a writer has is often themselves.  I’m too focused to get in my own way doing this.
• * Fourth, it’s about writing.  My goal is not to do anything but get something done, so I avoid distractions, or hemming and hawing.

Now note that this method doesn’t work as well if you don’t have an Outline.  The Outline gives you a pattern to work with (so you don’t go off the rails) and making it keeps you rethinking your ideas (so they’re more instinctive to write).  Going with no Outline can result in this vomit method getting pretty incoherent.

Pacing Myself

I usually set a pace for me to write – based on the aforementioned Outline – on how much I’ll do within a certain time.  It doesn’t have to be good or coherent, but I cover a certain percent of an outline within a given time.

I usually block out the major tasks of my book in terms of months, and set writing goals by weeks.  This way I have the large outline of the book (done in X months) and specific, actionable goals (get 15% through the Outline in a week).

I need this pacing not just to set goals, but because the outline and the “vomit method” actually mean I can overdo it.  I’ve had huge writing binges of hours where the words are coming out, and after awhile I’m exhausted.  I have trouble remembering writing parts of “Cosplay, Costuming, and Careers” as I was at my desk for hours.  Well I think I was.

You can too easily burn yourself out doing this – and because the goal is to “get it done” you might not realize it’s happening.  A 10% decline in quality when you’re using the vomit method isn’t apparent, and you won’t notice you’re real tired until your quality is much, much worse, or the words just stop.  Setting the goals helps this . . . but you might just go a bit farther.

So I pace myself, but I’ve never found a perfect method.  Mostly it’s a mix of gut,pre-set deadlines, and guesswork.

That may explain a few things.

It’s OK To Change

Now even though I go and just vomit onto the page, I do occasionally revise the Outline itself.

At times (less and less as I go on) you may find that things didn’t quite work out the way you expected.  It’s OK to revise your outline if you realize things need to be restructured.  However I’d do that as a separate task or after taking a nice break from “vomit writing.”

I also have found that in a few cases of writing you have to write in detail to know just what order things should be within your outline.  You may, say, know when events happen in a chapter, but only later discover the order you tell them in may need to be done differently.  Sometimes orders aren’t even apparent until you start writing – which is fine (and has been something I’ve done deliberately because I had to read over a lot of research and it was easier to find a pattern while reviewing it and writing about it).

Moving On

So then I’ve got a book that’s really a fast-written dump of ideas into a reasonably planned outline.  It’s barely a book at all.

Which is why, after I finish up all that writing, it’s time to go editing.  That’s when a book starts to become a book.

• Steve

(This column is posted at www.StevenSavage.com, www.SeventhSanctum.com, and Steve’s Tumblr)

Earlier I’d discussed, with inspiration from my friend Serdar, about how writers are both compelled but also need to figure what to do with their writing to be happy.  Writing is an inclination – doing something with it lets it become more.

That’s really being a Writer, even if its not the kind of writer someone thinks you should be.  If someone thinks you should do more than Team Fortress 2 Slashfic and you’re happy, fine.  That’s what you do and it’s doing what you want.

But I’d be remiss in not addressing something else for writers. Namely that like any path, any career, anything you pursue, a larger amount of the path you follow isn’t what you think it is.

Writing Is More Than Writing

So a big part of writing is being read.  If for some reason you’re writing with the intention of no one ever seeing it (say journaling or something) then this part doesn’t really apply.  Otherwise I assume part of the writing drive is for someone to experience it at some point.

This means that to be a writer . . .you have to do more than write.

• A good writer a the very least is a half-decent editor if only to make their work coherent enough for a real editor to understand it.
• A good writer is a project manager so they can write on time and to a needed deadline (if only self-imposed)
• A good writer can recognize their need to improve and implement it.

These are things t the very least you have to do.  But if you’re truly looking to be read there’s more.

• A writer may need to be a marketer.
• A writer may need to be enough of a businessperson to hire a marketer.
• A writer may need to be enough of a psychologist to recognize what they can’t do – from an editor to a marketer to a personal aide.
• A good writer is someone who develops the skills to support their writing.

So being a writer is also about being more than a writer so you can do whatever you want with your writing – even if it’s having someone else help out.

So if you want to be a writer – your kind of writer, whatever that is – you have to figure out what else you have to be good at.  Otherwise your being a “writer” is words that won’t go anywhere.

What do you have to be?  Editor?  Marketer?  Publicity agent?  Scientist?  What else do you have to be to be  a Writer?

• Steven

(This column is posted at www.StevenSavage.com, www.SeventhSanctum.com, and Steve’s Tumblr)

Over at his blog my friend Serdar talked about why people write. Some people, he notes, want all the benefits and the aura of being a writer . . . except they’re not too up on the “writing” part of it. To be a writer, you have to write.

And Serdar, like Brad at Hardcore Zen, and like myself note it’s a kind of compulsion.

I write because it’s something I do. I craft words, tell stories, organize information. I’m not exactly sure why – these are traits all humans have, for me and others its just pronounced. We do it more often than they do. It’s who we are.

Now you have to work on it, as Serdar notes, something not everyone else does. Me, I self-publish a lot of stuff, I’ve yet to “hit it big,” I may never do so. But that’s not my goal.

And that’s the crux of being a writer – it’s something you do, but you also apply yourself to figure what you can and should do with it. That’s where many, many writer’s break down.

Because here’s the rub – writing is not just writing nor is it just improving it – it’s knowing what the hell to do with it to reach your goals. Write all you want, but if you want to do something with it you have to ask just what your goals are.

I’ve met many people who want to write, but they want to write under highly specific conditions. They want to be a writer and be paid – but in this genre and at this pay rate and so on. No, if you want to be paid as a writer you write, and that leads you to either A) write whatever pays the bils, or B) work your butt off on your focus to become very, very good (depending what “good” is).

I’ve met people who write but for fun and occasionally wonder what more they “should” do – when maybe all you want to do is write fanfic and that’s perfectly OK. That’s good, that’s fine.

Or there’s me, who likes writing, likes helping people and cataloging knowledge, and does it as a kind of hobby that occasionally makes money. It’s a skill I like using and would like to use more, so I’m gladly learning and seeing what more I can do with it.

But that’s my schtick.

So if you want to write figure your goals and go and channel that writing into succeeding. But if you don’t do something with it, you’re never going to get much done.

• Steve

(This column is posted at www.StevenSavage.com, www.SeventhSanctum.com, and Steve’s Tumblr)

Last time we met, I discussed that a major part of my writing is actually deciding what to do write in the first place.  I don’t just go “oh, I have to write this,” I ask where it fits in my larger writing career (and, occasionally, vice versa).  Part of being a writer, to me, is filtering.

But at some point the time comes to Write That Book.  So I write that book – by writing something else.  The Outline.

The Framework Of The Future

Almost every large work I write I write is Outlined, often in fine detail – fiction and non-fiction.  I have it broken down into major sections (often chapters) and what they’re about, and often down to individual paragraphs.

The reason for this is multifold:

1. An Outline is a away to test-drive your idea.  There’s a chance you don’t have a good grasp of it or that it’s in an immature state.  In fact, when I schedule a book I usually produce a rough outline then – sometimes the complete outline.
2. An Outline creates the basic structure of your book – and tests that structure  As you come up with an Outline you often find better ways to do the book – and in the end the outline means a stronger piece of writing.
3. An Outline is a way to pace yourself.  When your book is broken down into sections and components, you can easily measure work done, work needed, and progress.
4. An Outline, because of the above, becomes a time-saving device.

As important as this is in non-fiction, a good outline is even more important in non-fiction.  A large cast and large series of plot elements can easily go “off the rails” if you don’t keep track of things.  Writing a book, on say, Ball-Jointed Doll clothes may require certain cases of following instructions, but tracking three battles and twelve characters across 300 pages is going to be even crazier.

I have one friend working on an utterly brilliant story involving precognition. Imagine where they’d be without an outline . . .

So, me, I outline.  And what’s a good Outline?  Well, my outline tells me it’s time to discuss that . . .

A Good Outline Is . . .

So what does my outline contain?  Let’s look into that before I get into how I make it.  It sort of makes my goals clear.

First, a good outline contains a breakdown of the various Sections of a book – often this is chapters, but in the case of fiction it may be major events or milestones.  These are the “big pieces” of the book that get you from A to B, be it learning a skill or telling a tale.  The various sections are

Secondly, the Major Sections are also broken down into individual pieces, the elements that make up these Really Big Things.  A Chapter on, say, writing skills may cover the major skills and their role in your career.  A big event in a book, say a war, may start with how characters get involved in said war, what happens at various times, and the fallout.

Each Section has a specific goal, getting from A to B.  If its complex, not always clear, or needs precise pacing, I break it down further into subsections – major events, major points, etc.  For my nonfiction I may go as far as to break down what each paragraph is about.

You probably realize now that my Outline is, essentially, a fractal.  A Section has a start and a finish – and a goal.  So does each part of it.  So may each paragraph if I outline that far.

Sure this sounds like it may take time – it may or it may not (sometimes this stuff nearly writes itself).  I stop when I have enough information to know I can start.  You can overdo it.

When you really get “in the zone” of building the Outline, it can happen fast, it can be instinctive, and it can be powerful.  You truly know your subject after awhile, and it just flows.

Let’s talk about creating it in detail.

Creating That Outline

So how do I create that outline?  That . . . is both organized and not, depending on what I’m writing.  There’s a few methods I use to get started, depending on what works and what my mood is.  Then it’s mostly the same.

Methods to get started:

• Brain dump method.  I write down everything associated with the book, everything I want to cover.  Then when I’m sure I have everything out, I sort it into an outline.  THis usually gives me a mix of Sections and fine detail to put in the sections.  The order usually becomes pretty apparent.
• A to B method.  If a book has a very specific goal, I create my initial outline on how you get from A to B, each section or chapter being about one major milestone.
• The Probe.  This is what I use if I don’t quite have a clear A to B method, but some path is apparent.  I write a sample outline, review it, then if not sure, write up a slightly different one.  Eventually the best A to B method emerges.

Which method works best?  That’s really something you have to try for yourself – and it depends on the subject.  Stories usually work with a mix of A to B or The Probe.  Nonfiction works can fit any in my experience – and you may not know which is best for a subject until you fail at it once.

So once I get started, and have a basic Outline, I then review sections, figuring out what has to go in them.  At this point since I know the goals of the book, I can pretty much write from A to B each section.  I cover each major issue that has to be covered at the very least.

If a book is larger, I often do several “Sweeps” fro start to finish, getting the Outline straight, reviewing it, and often adding more and more detail to the book – breaking each major Section or Chapter down further and further.  Sometimes, as noted I literally get to the level of figuring out what each paragraph covers.

How far do I take this?  Usually “until I have enough to start writing” or “I’ll know it when I see it.”  One can usually tell, instinctively, if a book is ready to go.

While doing the Outline, a few things to try out . . .

Insights While Outlining

So as I work on my Outline there’s a few things I do or try out:

• Look for patterns.  Sometimes a book, no matter it’s form, has patterns in it.  You may find that each character’s story parallels the other, or you may find that your insights about specialty popcorn fit into four patterns.  Finding these patterns is important as they can guide, improve, o even replace the original outline.  If you find that each character’s story parallels that of the others, you may try to tell each character’s tale at once as opposed to people catching up in flashback.
• Look for warnings. Sometimes, despite your best efforts, while working on an Outline you may find you’re totally off base and need to change all or part of it.  Heed the warnings – because once you’re down in the weeds outlining your next book, thats when you truly find your mistakes.
• Take notes.  Sometimes you’ll find interesting insights you might not use, or questions to ask yourself.  Write them down and review later.
• Other inspirations.  This often happens while writing, so keep that Brainstorm Book handy!

So When It’s Done

So once my Outline is done, I make sure to store a copy of it.  Because now it’s time to start writing . . .

• Steve

(This column is posted at www.StevenSavage.com, www.SeventhSanctum.com, and Steve’s Tumblr)

So last we met I talked about how I got my ideas – which was usually “a lot of them,” aided by recording them in a book that I reviewed regularly. This usually left me with more than enough Big Ideas to do books with.

But if you have a hundred ideas or one – how do I know what to write? I have limited time.  I have to pick between Big Ideas.

Thats why I have The Goals and The Plan.

The Goals And The Plan: Why And How

So when you choose what to write, you have to ask what is the role of writing in your life.  That helps you select what to write.

I have specific Goals set out for my writing career, goals that have evolved over time as my life has changed.  My first book was an attempt to reach out and help fellow geeks with careers.  My current goals are to expand as a writer, broaden what I do, and make writing an integral part of my life and career.

Having goals is great because it lets me evaluate if a book meets them – or if it’s the kind of Big Idea that means I have to rethink my goals. After all, if I suddenly find that I am compelled to write a fantasy novel as opposed to another nonfiction work, maybe there’s something to pay attention to.  Either way you should have goals as a writer and evaluate how your Big Ideas work with them.

My goals are also part of A Plan. I know what books I want to write when, in what order, for what reason. Lest that seem a bit over-organized, imagine if you were writing a fantasy trilogy and you get the idea – you do need a Plan if you’re going to write multiple things and build any kind of writing career.

The Plan can also change as my life changes, as goals shift, etc. I don’t revise it lightly, but as I review it weekly (to know what to work on) monthly (to evaluate progress and think of the future) and quarterly (to evaluate it a year out) I may find things have to change.  That’s fine.  The Plan has to help me reach my Goals.

An example? I was actually going to be working on a Project Management book while some other books were being edited. I realized I was too overloaded – and the edited books would come down on me like a ton of bricks when delivered. I could have easily have added something, or reshuffled the order, or done something else – instead I chose to delay that book.

Another example? Several times I’ve had to rearrange the schedule of the books I was working on due to various reasons. That happens as well, that’s life – but I knew why they were changing and what the impact to the timeline was.

As I’m quite organized, my plan even contains estimated times to write, edit, format, and publish. That lets me evaluate what I’ll be doing when, my time commitments – and if they’re worth it.  You may or may not go that far.

One important note? I’ve never, in memory, dropped an idea I’d started. Usually by the time I’ve started a book I’ve pretty much decided to do it. I figure unless you truly have to quit that’s a good policy – sticking too something is important.

So Now I Know

My Big Ideas are worked into a Plan, so I know what to write, when to write, and even how long it’ll probably take.  When I do my usual planning sessions, be it for a week out, a month out, a quarter out, or a year out, I know what I’m doing when.

I can literally say “OK, this is the day or week I start this book” and go for it.

That might sound a bit mechanical, a bit uninspiring – but it actually helps.  I’m always reviewing my ideas, always aware of what’s coming, so I never quite loose the inspiration.  At the same time as I have a plan I worry less, I know how long things take – I can bring the idea to life with minimal distraction and maximum effect.

So, next we’ll talk about what happens when I start a project.

• Steve

(This column is posted at www.StevenSavage.com, www.SeventhSanctum.com, and Steve’s Tumblr)

With my eighth book out, I figured I’d talk about how I actually write. After doing a lot of self-publishing, it struck me that “hey, others could benefit from this” and “I may learn talking with others.” I probably could have thought of that earlier, but I guess I was too busy writing.  Which is probably something else I should write on.

Anyway, in the spirit of reaching out to fellow writers, here’s how I write.

Please note that:

1. I am focusing on my style of nonfiction.  It might not apply to fiction except in the abstract.
2. It’s a focus on books – since thats where my head is right now.  You may be able to apply these lessons to other things.

Now, let’s talk about where my ideas fome from.

Inspiration: The Bolt Of Lighting

A good book starts with an idea. A bad book does as well, but I assume you’re not trying to write a bad one. Not deliberately, but let’s face it, I’m not going to judge you.

So where do I get my ideas? They come from everywhere. I rarely lack inspriation – and if I do, I usually can find a way to stimulate it.  This is because of my work studying inspiration, writing generators, and creating.  I’ve got a groove from sheer practice – and in time, you’ll develop one as well.

There are a few tips I can share:

• * First is to be open to ideas. Don’t just reject hem.
• * Seek experiences that inspire you. If you’re not inspired, your life may be too routine.
• * Regularly do things that require inspiration – that aren’t writing. My job managing, the work on the sanctum, all of that means my inspiration isalways being honed.

For me, ideas are striking me all the time. Wether you have a lot or a few, an idea is an idea. One of them might be the Big Idea, the book, the one you have to do.

Wether the latest inspiration you have is The Big Idea, or might be, you have to record it.  This is where things start taking form.

Recording: The First Step

Over the years I’ve emphasized the need for creative people of all kinds – and by that I mean most anyone – to keep a Brainstorm Book. The Brainstorm Book is where you write any idea that remotely seems worthy of keeping track of.

At this point, you’re already processing the latest inspiration. Maybe you flesh it out, maybe you drop it, either way the simple act of writing it down (and trust me, write it don’t type it) helps you process it a bit further. You may, in writing it down, suddenly realize a vision for it – and suddenly it’s The Big Idea you must make.

Be sure to record the idea in as much detail as possible – but don’t pressure yourself. One sentence that’s inspired may say far more than a paragraph you forced.

OK, so you recorded it.  Recording it made you think it over a bit, so the idea is a bit more polished, a bit more understood, and recorded in a way that’ll call back the inspiration.  The act of recording it might have even led it to become a Big Idea.

But with so many ideas, what do you do?  Well, if a Big Idea isn’t something I must work into my plans (and sometimes it is), I review the Brainstorm Book.

Reviewing: Looking Back

Once a month I review my brainstorm book, seeing what ideas stand out. Depending on their quality I may:

1. Decide they’re not worth it.
2. Decide they might be worth it and put them in a series of computer files to capture given inspirations -book ideas, column ideas, etc. I review these files whenever I add something or feel bereft of ideas (which, admittedly, isn’t often).
3. Decide the idea might be worth it – then I put it into an “incubator” file that I also review once a month.  This is for ideas that might be worth doing but I don’t have a plan quite yet.  Sometimes things go out of the incubator file.  This is for the “might be a Big Idea”
4. Decide I “This is a Big Idea” and figure I’ll do something with it.

The act of reviewing – and reviewing regularly –  is important, and not just for selecting Big Ideas. It can also inspire you by seeing your ideas in a different context. New ideas may flow, new inspirations may come, patterns emerge.  Sometimes new Big Ideas form just from the act of reviewing.

The Selected

So finally, I’ve got a lot of ideas. Hopefully I’ve got a Big Idea to develop into my next book, right?

Nope, I usually have several. I have a pile. Sometimes I even have a few ideas that I want to do in order.

Or maybe I do have a Big Idea – but do I really want to do it?

Well, next up, let’s talk how I select ideas to work on.

• Steve

 We return this week with, well, a few more magic systems. And to round them out, here’s a link to an old story of mine, which is as much overview of a magic system as it is creation myth: A Legend of Creation.

1. The Multitudinous Way

The financial astrologers are not the only power in their world. In some opposition to them (not so much morally but ideologically, for their respective magics depend on wildly variant world-views) are those that consider themselves Icewalkers, or Driven, or Joktanists, or the followers of Ishmael’s Way, or nomad-princes.

There are three tools through which a Joktanist wields zir magic: wine, bowl, and dust. No cup will do to hold the wine, which may be of any quality, nor a deep plate, but only a bowl. The dust is tossed in (the more you put in, the more you get out) to fuel the spell, and once the bowl is struck or swirled to achieve movement the dust dissolves and the spell takes effect through the medium of the wine.

What exactly is done depends upon what kind of dust is used. Salt, for example, will imbue the wine with protective properties. It shields against harm such that, if placed on the doors of a house, it will make the building impregnable for a time. Ash-charged wine will ignite. Common earth will heal or repair.

Just as the financial astrologers lose something in return for their powers, though, so too do the Driven. Each of the nomad-princes has become what ze is because ze wanted freedom and wonder. In a dream ze pursued zir quarry— deer, man, RC car, or something else entirely— until it was caught and revealed itself to be the Dream of Kings (no accidental switching of order there) and granted zem power. As consequence, however, the Joktanists can never rest their heads in the same place more than once. No bed, cot, or sleeping bag can serve the same man again, nor building, lest the offender suffer nightmares all through zir sleep, and when ze stays in the same city for a full lunar month zir powers— but not the required nomadism— are lost until ze moves again.

Generally, financial astrologers want bigger cities and Icewalkers want smaller ones. Larger cities lend themselves to easier manipulation through ley lines, while smaller cities make things more flexible for the Icewalkers. Nevertheless, it is not unheard of for a financial astrologer to hire an Icewalker for some task.

2. Stars and Sun

There are those who have sought out the power of the stars and made bargains with them upon the mountain-tops. To each of them a star comes. They speak, and deal one with another, and make their contract. To one that has made a stellar-pact there is given a small power. Through one star may be granted the power to relieve exhaustion, through another the power to turn steel back to untreated iron, and through a third the power to speak with mice. The number of powers and stellar-pacts to be had is as great as the stars themselves, for no star will refuse to come down and deal with the children of men.

But there is one cost that is ever the same, no matter the terms of the pact. The usage of this magic hollows out memories, emotions, and other aspects of the mind, leaving space for them to be infested with parasites of a spiritual nature. These parasites, perhaps proto-stars, are not malevolent, but neither are they benign; by natural consequence of their presence they warp their habitation, altering the mind of their host in ways that are small at first but grow greater in the course of time.

The sun, chief emperor among the stars, does not take part in these pacts, and neither have the stars ever been permitted to remain in the land except for the space of a few minutes. But there are those whose blood goes back to those times when the sun itself came down and tarried long, making merry with the sons of men, and the daughters of men. It bore children to the sons of men, and begot children by the daughters of men, and some of these lines have continued true to this day.

The power of these bloodlines is tied to the sun, coming with its rise and departing with its setting. Because of the rising and setting of their forebear they have internal clocks precise to a thousandth of a second, being able to tell time by the waxing or waning of their power. When the sun is risen they have not so much great strength as they do the ability to make other things weak, and simply by so choosing they can interact with matter as though it were warm butter, no matter whether it is granite, flesh, or steel. This power is theirs from birth but it does not affect others with the same heritage.

3. Morospicy

This magic is as simply as it is horrific: the murder of a human being, under the right conditions, can give the killer a glimpse of another point in time and space. The more removed this point is in either time or space, the more deaths that are required, and changing both has a disproportionate effect. Viewing another location in the present is about as easy as viewing one’s present location in the past, though just a handful of deaths are necessary to glimpse a few minutes of one’s present location ten years hence.

It is possible, in theory, to glimpse everything, past, present and future. The number of deaths that would be required is unknown, but must surely be immense. It is possible that the population is not even large enough to accommodate make it possible yet. It is just as possible that a group of morospexes are patiently waiting through the centuries for the time when their order may make the necessary sacrifice or, if life extension is possible in the setting, that a single long-lived morospex has been killing through the centuries and saving zir charges in preparation for the day of revelation.

Each morospex has zir own necessary conditions, which can be anything from intoning a certain chant or to using a weapon inscribed with the right runes. These conditions can be discovered either by accident or by the intervention of another morospex using zir own conditions to view the future and see under what conditions someone is practicing morospicy.

R. Donald James Gauvreau works an assortment of odd jobs, most involving batteries. He has recently finished a guide to comparative mythology for worldbuilders, available herefor free. He also maintains a blog at White Marble Block, where he regularly posts story ideas and free fiction, and writes The Culture Column, an RPG.net column with cultures ready for you to drop into your setting. 

Something that came to mind while working on the last entry for the history of adaptations is how publishing and, indeed, writing, has changed over time.  While series have been around for some time in several genres, from mysteries to westerns to science fiction and fantasy*, Over time, though, the length of novels has been growing, not just in page count but in story.

A few examples before continuing.  Jane Eyre, by Charlotte Brontë and released in 1847, has anywhere between 350 to 500 pages, depending on edition, and covers the title character’s life from childhood to adulthood in detail.  Eyre was also originally published in three novels, not one.  A Study in Scarlet, the first novel-length Sherlock Holmes novel by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, is slightly over 100 pages.  A Princess of Mars, the first of the John Carter of Mars series by Edgar Rice Burroughs, is 186 pages.  Daybreakers, part of the Sackett family saga by Louis L’Amour, is 240 pages.  Casino Royale, the first 007 novel by Ian Fleming, clocks in at over 210 pages.  Jumping ahead, Firefox, by Craig Thomas, is over 380 pages and A Game of Thrones, the first of the A Song of Ice and Fire series by George RR Martin, is over 835 pages.

If the above paragraph made your eyes glaze over, longer novels gave way to shorter ones which then were muscled away with longer novels once again.  Casino Royale was fully adapted as a movie.  Firefox was adapted in full, but details were lost along the way to keep to the core of the book.  Comparing the two original novels, there was far more happening at different levels in Firefox, from Gant’s infiltration of the Soviet Union to the monitoring of the mission by the head of MI-6.  Casino Royale kept the focus on Bond and his investigations.  The two stories fall into the Cold War-era espionage genre, but Firefox gets into greater detail.

In the fantasy genre, doorstoppers are de rigeur today.  Earlier works, like Robert E. Howard’s Conan the Barbarian series and Burrough’s John Carter and Tarzan series, were of a length that allowed entire books to be fully adapted.  A Game of Thrones, however, required a TV series to do the novel justice.  Martin has a large cast, with each character having his or her own plotline.  There is no way that a movie could hope to encompass everything happening.  The game changer in the fantasy genre was JRR Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings.  When it gained in popularity in the Sixties, a number of future writers became inspired by the scale of the story.

What does the expansion mean for adaptations?  First, the best format for the adaptation may no longer be a feature film.  While movies still have the cachet of being the premier form of entertainment, they have a time limit.  Few movies lasst longer than three hours, and most are two hours or shorter.  Casts of characters have also grown, which leads to either having a large number of actors or rolling several characters into one.  Both have pitfalls.  A large cast means that a favourite character might get only a few minutes on screen.  Combining several minor characters into one conglomerate means a new character appears.

Adding to the complexity is that, while series seem to be on the wane in science fiction and fantasy**, multi-book epics are the norm.  Stories like JK Rowling’s Harry Potter, Suzanne Collins’ The Hunger Games trilogy, and Martin’s unfinished A Song of Ice and Fire all provide a challenge to complete.  The Harry Potter movies dropped several elements just to get as much in as possible.  This task had added difficult as the successive books in the series got longer and more detailed and intricate.  Both Harry Potter and The Hunger Games needed to split the last novel into two movies to wrap up the story properly.

The expansion of stories may be one of the reasons why comic books are a popular source today.  Comics have had ongoing plots mixed in with one-issue stories in the past, and today’s focus on writing for the trades still allows for an arc to be easily adapted.  Even if a story needs to be compressed, it is still possible to get a popular story filmed with minimal loss of detail.

Peter Jackson’s recent film treatment of The Hobbit may be the vanguard of a new approach to adapting novels.  Provided that the book is popular, adaptations may no longer be kept to just one movie but as many as needed.  Again, there is a risk.  If the first movie doesn’t perform to expectations, the rest of the film series may never be made.  The Mortal Instruments fell to this fate, with just one movie, City of Bones released to a lukewarm reception.

In short, adapting novels to movie form, a tough task of balancing audience expectations with practical and budgetary demands to begin with, now has added problems in terms of including the full story.  There is no simple solution.  The best that can be done is to see what works and what doesn’t.

* Including planetary romance, which includes the John Carter of Mars novels.
** Excluding tie-in novels and urban fantasy.  Tie-in novels exist to take advantage of an existing property, acting as an extension.  Urban fantasy appears to be taking its cue from both fantasy and from mysteries, where there are single plot arc series leading to a pre-planned ending and series that return to see how characters are faring.