I’m so very pleased I went for a walk today.
I’d been planning to stay inside and read my research book about the psychology of twins. But it was sunny and I needed some exercise and besides, walking always helps me to think. So I put on my trainers and my coat and went for a walk around my neighbourhood.
I didn’t go far—no more than a couple of miles. I didn’t stay out for long—only an hour. But the act of putting one foot in the front of the other cleared my mind and started the cogs going again and by the time I was heading back up the hill to my house, several things had fallen into place, and those several things provided me with the key to this next book.
Usually I have a central theme or conflict that I base my whole story around—the main problem of the main character, the thing that will make all of her actions consistent. It’s what my plot grows out of, and it’s where the emotional growth happens, and it also helps me choose the setting, the imagery, and the subplots. (I didn’t have one of these for Nina Jones when I started; it’s one of the reasons I had so much trouble with the first half of the first draft.)
This story is about twins, so I needed two. And though I had the basic information about each twin straight in my head, I couldn’t really figure out what their key conflict was, and how those key conflicts related to each other.
Then, somewhere between the new Tesco and my front door—BOOM—I got it. It’s like putting on your glasses and seeing the world crystal clear. And in this case, I realised I’d been going about it wrong: I didn’t have two key conflicts, I had one. One conflict for one twin, and its mirror image for the other twin.
As soon as I realised it, scenes and plots and secondary characters crowded themselves into my brain. And it’s all very, very, very exciting. Absolutely one of the best things about being a writer.
Utter magic.
Fingers crossed it stays crystal clear for me.
Oh, fab, Julie! I just love those moments when it all goes ZING! POW! WHAM! in your head.
And you are so right that when that one central issue is resolved it’s like opening the door to a really accessible supermarket – you can see all the aisles at a glance and even though the place is full of interesting people, you know it’s all going to be sorted out by the checkout and you can even dimly see how you might manage it.
I do hope you’ve scribbled down as much of your vision as possible (preferably in writing that you can read in a few months time…)
Yes, Jan, I made a map which, though not full of specifics, does give me the direction to go in.
Your supermarket simile, though, reminds me—my local WH Smith’s keeps on moving their shelves! Every time I go in there, they’ve changed everything around. Maybe this is good sales sense, but it drives me crazy because I always go in for one specific thing, usually in a hurry, sometimes with a bored and fussing child, and it’s always in a different place!
One day I will snap.
Julie, mindless tasks like walking are great for clarity. Your senses are open and you are just waiting for something to strike. I’m so glad it did.
I had made a wrong turn last week and I stopped working and did other stuff as well as lots of thinking and it cleared everything.
I think the twin thing sounds GREAT.
I love those moments and I do think there is definately something when you do repetitive action that frees the brain!
Walking and conversations with you seem to work for me
lx
WOOOO HOOOO!! Go you!! I’m glad you have it clear in your head, and after our chat yesterday mine is a little clearer too. WE ROCK!
Walking really does it for me. Also having a bath.
Donna, I’m glad a rest did it for you, too! And thank you, I’m excited about Liza and Lee.
Liz, are you saying that conversations with me are repetitive tasks?!?!
Honestly I have no idea what I said to you, other than reinforcing your own feelings and enjoying myself, but I’m glad I was helpful in some way.
Yes, Biddy, WE ROCK!! Yours sounds so excellent.
I love it when a plan comes together.
And I know exactly what you mean about displacement activities. Housework, dog-walking, driving–I do some of my best thinking then. Well, maybe not housework, which I avoid at all costs.
It’s one of the things I often ask when someone gives me the ‘how do you come up with your ideas’ question. I tend to reply, “What do you think of when you’re driving/doing laundry etc?” They look blank and say, “Well, nothing really.” And I tell them that it’s as weird to me that they can think of nothing, as it’s weird to them that I think of something.
At this point, they usually find someone else to talk to.
Well done you. I too have Yes moments, and I am a walking and a bath girl, only the rubber duck gives me an odd look when I talk in the bath, as for in the open air, let’s just say I get a few looks as I chat away.
Great news! I love going for a walk to work things out, or a swim – and it’s such a great feeling when everything falls in to place.
x
Kate, I know! All those times when my body is busy, my brain is too, on my stories. I wonder what I thought about before I was a writer. I don’t remember being bored, so I must’ve thought about something.
Fran, rubber ducks are surprisingly intolerant of eccentricity.
A swim sounds very virtuous, Sally. Wish I could swim and think at the same time…I have to concentrate on not snorting water.