Perpetuation of planning
so…there is one small downside to Scrivener.
I don’t want to stop using it.
understandably, that’s okay right now. right now, I have eight episodic books to plot. that’s one main protagonist, six points of view, eight sub-genres of sci-fi erotica (really, though, there will be action-adventures, detective stories, romances, the whole shebang), two massive cultures and their intricate societal quirks, and then the first contact with probably four or five other species to keep track of. having Scrivener around is amazing.
I was on a roll last night, cranking out probably 4k words between the eight different plot docs, and the overarching story is much more solidified in my mind now. that being said, I can tell how easy it would be to dive into this software and not resurface until it was past the point of usefulness and straying into that dangerous territory known as procrastination.
for someone obsessed with organization and connections, Scrivener is orgasmic for me. so I’ve got to keep one eye on it and make sure it doesn’t become an obsession.
Conversations with myself
I’m sure that if mental physicians everywhere had their way, I (and many other writers) would be diagnosed with something serious. I’ve been writing Serious Character Bios (read: three handwritten pages per main character, which so far is six pages and will eventually be 15), and this has caused me to love my characters. Even my antagonist. Which is good, because even villains have mothers who love them (or something).
Anyway, now that I’ve fleshed out Cleo and George, in particular, I’ve started to have conversations with them. Sometimes this involves acting like I’m listening to said fictional entity telling me about themselves or a situation; sometimes I take on the role of the character and monologue to myself while in the bathroom (no, not while it’s otherwise occupied, I’m not that confident in my ability to prove my sanity). It’s actually a helpful exercise, because it plays on my one strength as a public speaker: spontaneity. I like to connect dots that were never supposed to be connected, and this happens best when my brain is in GO mode without the ability to censor a connection before I can see where it goes. Having conversations with myself is kind of my version of freewriting, especially because I’m slow to write by hand and typed freewrites feel like cheating. Weird quirk, right?
What kinds of quirks do you indulge in as far as your writing practice?