Let’s talk about writing a story or a novel in terms of getting that new kitchen you read me rave about recently. A devoted cook needs the tools of their trade. So, too, the writer. There is the environment. I already had a dream office after moving into the new house. A non-conforming room in the basement, basically a bedroom without windows, large enough to house the majority of books we owned, close enough to the internet router, and still with plenty of space for a morning workout. The space is the start, where you settle in to begin either your literary or culinary journey.
Then there are your tools. Maybe a stand mixer, mixing bowls, loaf pans. Down in the basement, beside the computer, research books, spare note pads for those scribbles you make, manilla folders. You’ve got your space and the items you need to put together what will eventually be a special creation.
Then you realize you’re not organized. Something is amiss. Perhaps everything. The kitchen and the office are not the same as the former kitchen and office. The feeling of knowing exactly where everything is and where you fit within the realm of those new rooms is not quite there. Yet.
Rearranging a kitchen, determining where to put the cups and bowls and plates and utensils is exactly the same as coming up with the structure of the story. It’s one thing to know you are baking a rosemary and cheddar boule or writing an historical crime novel. This is the end result. This is what you have determined you will create.
But the plot and the outline are secondary to the notion of how everything will be put together. In the kitchen you rely on a recipe. But you can never be exact and precise with the measurements. There is a plot point, maybe an unexpected twist that will arise as you actually begin writing, something so viable and deliciously fun that it must be included. Subsequently, you need to adjust.
There is no assembly line for baking or cooking and certainly not for writing. You may have a routine. You may get into a rhythm. But there are many facets of each, as well as the intrusion of life into your creative endeavors, that it is vitally necessary to adapt and adjust.
You will likely find your routine is more open than you realize or thought you could accept. Trying new ways of creating will foster more intellectual growth than simply standing pat on old ground. These have all become challenges to me in ways I never thought they would. Nevertheless, I enjoy these acts too much to simply acquiesce to frustration.
The Tikiman Says... 