So Jules (who has obviously been allotted more than the average 24-hours-in-a-day since she seems to have time to organize grand philanthropic events, interview literary starlets, review books with pithy panache and toss thought-provoking queries out into the universe) wants to know what we writerly folk think about “Process”. (At a recent conference, Rosemary Wells apparently said there is no such thing as process. Hmm. Makes one want to scratch one’s noggin.)
Here’s what I think.
Process is a verb and it’s something I do every single day. (Just ask my husband.)
I need to tease and sort stuff out because one big lumpy undifferentiated world is far too much to swallow whole.
To process is to name a thing, break it down into its smallest possible components, look at those pieces from every possible angle and through a variety of lenses, and then put it back together by articulating what’s been discovered. Preferably right at bedtime. (Just ask my husband.)
But really, it’s not unlike what we do as writers – especially during revision. We sit down and think, “What in sam hill was I trying to do here? Which bits work and which bits don’t? And why? Is it the point-of-view or the voice or the pacing or the narrative flow? And then, I’ve got an idea! I’m going to move this here because of a, and cut this because of b, and tweak this because of c.”
And then we heat up our chai, which has gotten all curdley at this point, and start over.
I mean, right?
That other kind of process, that Rosemary Wells says doesn’t exist? I call that practice rather than process. My personal practice includes writing something new every single day – sometimes a complete and rushy draft of a new story, sometimes a comma – and always, always, always reading my own work aloud. Yep. Just sittin’ in my chair writin’ and readin’. Oh, and also, waiting very hopefully for the lightening strike.
I’ll bet that’s not much different from what the rest of ya’ll are doing. Is it?
I like this. I’m not a novelist or fiction-writer, but I like how you differentiate between process and practice. (I guess I don’t like “one big lumpy undifferentiated world” either).
And I *wish* I had more than 24 hours in my day, but thanks for the compliment. I have a work-that-pays-me deadline looming now, but since I’m still waiting for them to send me what I need to actually *do* it, I might actually go take a bubble bath and read. I haven’t cracked a book in a few days — now, THERE’s where I need improvement (I am blogging about books after all. Huh). I guess I need five more read-only hours in my day. That’d be nice for us all, huh?
Thanks, Liz!
Jules, 7-Imp
Yeah. No kidding. If you get a hold of those hours, will you put in a similar request for me?
“Preferably right at bedtime.” LOL. The truth hurts. Our poor hubbies.
Oh, I love your answer so much. Process and practice. Two different things. That explains a lot.
The only thing is, I wish I were better at getting out of my own way. In both practice and process.
This is such a good discussion, and I’m glad Jules threw it out there. Let’s ask her to do it every week! 🙂 (Just kidding, Jules. You have enough to do.)
Sara Lewis Holmes
Read*Write*Believe
Yeah! Jules. The new host of a weekly discussion group with topics we adore. Tee hee.
Let’s process this a bit and see if we can’t come up with the perfect format 🙂
Oh yeah! process is a verb and plot is a four-letter word.
And then we heat up our chai YES!!!
this is me.
OK, Susan. THAT is a book title.
Process is Verb and Plot is a Four-Letter Word.
I would totally buy that book except I think I already know what’s inside…
LOL It is a great title, isn’t it?
I can’t write it funny like you do but it is all so insane. Everything I write has a different process but it does HAVE a process.
And all fiction starts with pen and paper. ALWAYS.
And I always drive people around me crazy with brainstorming before I ever start to write.
And . . .
never mind. Preaching to the choir, I know.
Yeah, and let’s not even get started with superstitions. Always start with a clean document. Or never start with a clean document. My favorite first draft leggings. The robins-egg-blue mug with a chip in the handle…
Well, sort of similar to what I do
Although you left out the part where I pull at my eyebrows and yell at the dogs and look at my husband as if I’ve never seen him.
I try to write something every day, too.
But I am only just now identifying my process for my practice. Except for the part about speedwalking all arond the house and muttering to myself. Got that part down.
Re: Well, sort of similar to what I do
Oh, right. The eyebrows. A close cousin of chewing one’s lip.
process indeed
Indeed, indeed. The process at bedtime. I’m accused of it often.
And the image of you reading aloud in your house all by yourself is a comforting one for sure. I too read aloud as my final edit session. If I can read it out loud to myself or others, without pause or “oh wait a second” then I know it’s good to go.
Re: process indeed
Yep, you can catch anything when you’re reading it aloud. If only you could try out life that way, y’know before you put yourself out there unedited….
I bow down to you, oh wise one. You said this very well.
Well, shucks.
I totally aspire to wisdom…