lovelyxmalia
10-29-2007, 08:02 PM
Writer's Book of Days - Judy Reeves
Try Out Ideas
No place is safer for trying out ideas - even the most radical - than your writing-practice notebook. You've got time and all the pages you need. You've got permission to write badly and stop at any place you want. So go ahead, take that hub of an idea out for a spin. See what happens.
Want to try dialogue like a couple of characters out of an Elmore Lenoard novel? Go ahead! Make it as banal, as over-the-top as you want. Let carrots talk to peas, motorcycles talk to cars, photographs talk to subjects.
Never tried your hand at genre writing? Create a fantasy, a western, a sci-fi. Even the bodice-ripping, heavy breathing purple prose of a romance. Who's to read this stuff unless you invite them?
Write erotica. Not that bodice-ripping, heavy-breathing, purple prose, but the real stuff. The Anne Rice as Anne Rampling, the Susie Bright, the Yellow Silk or Black Lace of erotica.
Have an idea and don't know whether it fits fiction, play, or screenplay? Try some of each!
Never wrote a screen play? Go for it, a few pages worth, in your notebook. On a Saturday afternoon. Look through the camera of your mind.
Change point of view; write the story from one character's point of view, then try another. Go from first to third person. Past tense to present tense.
If you're stuck at a juncture of a story and don't know which road to take, travel a little ways down all of them; notice the scenery, the weather, the possible destination.
Ask the perennial question of fiction writers everywhere, "What if...?" Ask even if you're not writing fiction.
Writers aren't born knowing the craft; writers are born with an urge to write, curiosity, an imagination, and perhaps, the love of the language. The way to learn the craft is through practice, and your notebook is the place of your apprenticeship. Even writers who are expert in the craft (those who've practiced long and hard) still try out ideas.
Try Out Ideas
No place is safer for trying out ideas - even the most radical - than your writing-practice notebook. You've got time and all the pages you need. You've got permission to write badly and stop at any place you want. So go ahead, take that hub of an idea out for a spin. See what happens.
Want to try dialogue like a couple of characters out of an Elmore Lenoard novel? Go ahead! Make it as banal, as over-the-top as you want. Let carrots talk to peas, motorcycles talk to cars, photographs talk to subjects.
Never tried your hand at genre writing? Create a fantasy, a western, a sci-fi. Even the bodice-ripping, heavy breathing purple prose of a romance. Who's to read this stuff unless you invite them?
Write erotica. Not that bodice-ripping, heavy-breathing, purple prose, but the real stuff. The Anne Rice as Anne Rampling, the Susie Bright, the Yellow Silk or Black Lace of erotica.
Have an idea and don't know whether it fits fiction, play, or screenplay? Try some of each!
Never wrote a screen play? Go for it, a few pages worth, in your notebook. On a Saturday afternoon. Look through the camera of your mind.
Change point of view; write the story from one character's point of view, then try another. Go from first to third person. Past tense to present tense.
If you're stuck at a juncture of a story and don't know which road to take, travel a little ways down all of them; notice the scenery, the weather, the possible destination.
Ask the perennial question of fiction writers everywhere, "What if...?" Ask even if you're not writing fiction.
Writers aren't born knowing the craft; writers are born with an urge to write, curiosity, an imagination, and perhaps, the love of the language. The way to learn the craft is through practice, and your notebook is the place of your apprenticeship. Even writers who are expert in the craft (those who've practiced long and hard) still try out ideas.