Writing the wrongs
It’s taken some time, but I’ve finally figured out where the problem is, or rather, where the problems are, with Fallen Angel.
It’s fifteen years since the inception of Fallen Angel - fifteen years! I can hardly believe it sometimes. Fifteen years and I’m still only up to Chapter 7 and currently on re-draft #4. (though I seem to recall that draft #2 did get as far as Chapter 13) 
There’s no doubt about it, RL gets in the way, and it’s a god damn bitch of an unsatisfactory situation alright. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking recently though, and reading, and reading’s always good for me. Food for the soul. That and the fact that Finn, and Kerry, and Rob, and Chrissie, and the rest of them are whining in my ears, “You’re not writing about us damn it!” has got me thinking again; thinking and planning, and I’ve come to the conclusion that RL can wait damn it!
I have four basic problems, and the problems are thus…
Problem #1: Lack of planning
Fallen Angel started out way back 15 years ago as a “what if..?” and at the time never particularly had a plan. I just started writing because I had to. The characters were there in my head and they demanded to be written about, so I got on and did it, but there was no particular plan, no particular plot from the start. In the early days, draft #1 was very much influenced by Stephen King’s “Strawberry Spring” from his short story compilation “Night Shift”. The opening scene in fact (which was the final scene, but appeared in version #1 as a prologue) was a scene inspired by ‘Strawberry Spring’. It wasn’t how I’d intended it to end at all, but it just felt right (even though I hate sad endings damn it!) ‘Strawberry Spring’ was set in a US college campus, which I guess was what caused that original ping in my mind, being at college myself at the time, and later on “Hearts in Atlantis” influenced it a fair bit too.
Apart from the fact there was no plot in my mind, no plan to speak of, for how we were going to get to that final scene, I realised that I didn’t really know the characters either, and after a period of “what-the-hell-do-I-do-now?!” I realised I needed to go back to basics and really get to know the characters before I could start to write about them with any conviction. And so began a spell of writing the story of each of the characters from their point of view, their childhood, their experiences, their hopes and their dreams. Two A4 note books became my constant companion, and gradually the characters became not just the original people they were loosely based on (I freely admit that the original characters may not have been entirely fictional), but people in their own right, and from then they’ve become individuals themselves, with wills of their own (they rarely do what I expect them to do), the people who live inside my head, my constant companions.
The plan for getting to that final scene developed around that time. It was a loose plan, but it was a plan none the less, and though there’s a kind of plan in my head, that’s the first problem, because the plan’s not detailed enough. I knew I needed to do a fair bit of background research, so off I’ve been researching this, and researching that, and gone off a-wandering down many a sidetrack on something that interested me, and may be of some use, but I’ve neglected the fact that the plan’s just not detailed enough to get me to where I want to go to. It’s like going off on a trip to visit “my friends in the south” and knowing their address and the road they live on, but forgetting to look up the road numbers inbetween.
My working days though (the non-web ones) I spend making plans. I work in strategy damn it, so surely working out a strategy for getting from A, the beginning, to Z, that final scene isn’t beyond my wit! It’s worked successfully in the past. The as yet unfinished “Womble Casserole” had a detailed chapter by chapter, and scene by scene where necessary, plan, which although not written in stone, and had the flexibility to accommodate the odd change of plan, or the odd extra scene, was detailed enough that we knew where we were going when we got to the next junction. So did the “Greatest western which shall never see the light of day” written with my good friend Peter, and that sort of lurched it’s way to an alcohol fuelled conclusion too.
So, next step, the detailed plan for Fallen Angel!
Problem #2: The devil’s in the detail
Now being obsessed with research (I’m a researcher by trade) of course when I realised that to get me to that final scene, I needed more knowledge to fill in the gaps of the details, I set off on a gargantuan quest to equip myself with the aforementioned knowledge, but I’ve been so busy researching that along the way I forgot that the fundamental goal of this is to write the story, and there’s no reason why I need to equip myself with all the detail as a prerequisite to getting going. Something comes up that I need to fill in the details of, of check something out for the sake of accuracy, then I can toddle off and check it out.
Step 2: stop with the obsessive researching and get on with the damned writing!
Problem #3: No such thing as happy ever after
RL’s kind of been a bitch just recently, more so than usual, and I’ve been down for a while now. When I’m down, that affects my writing, sometimes in a positive way, depending on the character, but when I get too low I lose motivation, and I lose objectivity, and it clouds my judgement and my writing.
Recently though I’ve realised that I’ve got to chill a little more (or rather a lot more) and I’ve realised I need to reassess my priorities. I’ve been doing some reading, in fact a lot of reading, and reading some damned good work by some very talented writers, and allowing myself space take time out and escape into another reality. I really needed that, and it’s made me realise that not only is anything possible in fiction, and that I can, if I really want (and if Kerry and co. don’t object too much) change the course of Fallen Angel, but I’ve found my smile again.
Realisation #1: In fiction anything is possible.
Problem #1: Let them speak
The final problem is in a way the easiest to fix. It’s been so long now that I’ve been slogging my guts out trying to be superwoman and trying to do everything, and more on top, that for far too long I haven’t let myself escape into the world of fiction. I’ve been doing just that recently, and exploring a whole world of fiction out there on the web (so much easier than traditional books because a) I don’t have to leave my beloved Diva to read it, and b) I can ramp up the text size so I can read it easily) and there’s some damned good stuff out there. The quality of some it, and the honesty with which it’s written has reminded me of something that’s badly missing from ‘Fallen Angel’.
The fact is that I’ve been seeing the story through my eyes, and it’s not my story, it’s Kerry’s, and Finn’s, and Rob’s, and Chrissie’s, and the rest of the gang’s. To do what I set out to do I need to take a step back and let the story through their eyes, to let them speak and let them tell their own story with full brutal honesty.
They’re in my head, and they talk to me, they talk to me all the time. They’ve been known to butt in when I’m trying to concentrate on work, and when I’m dozing off to sleep they come and whisper in my ear, and when I’m at work and I pop out for a quick smoke they chatter away (that’s their favourite time for chatting). They tell me when they don’t like what I’m doing, and just lately they’ve been telling me, “You’re not writing about us damn it!”
I want to tell their story, and I want to tell it through their eyes, and I hope I’m up to the job. So I asked them if it’s okay.
We were sitting on the fire-escape behind the office, the sun just setting as they all started the night shift, their favourite spot for chilling and escaping the gloom of their subterranean office space, and it felt right that that’s where I asked them - the place where it all began and their story started in earnest, and I felt honoured to be included in the conversation. Usually I lurk in the shadows just a little way down the car park, watching them quietly and trying not to laugh at their skitting and (mostly) good natured office banter. Rob just shrugged, non-committal as always, and Chrissie said, “It’s okay by me,” looking slightly nervous at the thought, pressing her lips together like she does when she’s pondering on something. Finn, ever the showman scuffed a trainered foot in the dirt, then threw his arms wide, and with a grin that nearly split his face in two, announced, “Yeehaw! You go girl! Let ‘em have it!” Kerry, with piercing blue eyes, simply winks. No words needed.
I guess that’s a green light on that one then.
I just hope I can do them proud.
Michelle responds:
Posted: March 7th, 2008 at 7:42 am →
I’m always happy to hear that someone is reading!
Imogen Howson has some free ebooks on her site.. I’m not sure what you like to read, but these are pretty good to escape into… http://www.imogenhowson.com/books.html