When I worked as a Tasting Room Manager at a winery, I'd often get asked, "What's your favorite wine here?" And I would just smile and respond, "Today?" We'd all laugh, since obviously I had a lot of potential favorites to choose from, so how could I possibly have the SAME favorite every single day?
If I were asked what my writing process is, I'd respond in a similar way. It seems to change not only with each book, but with each day's wildly different writing needs. Some days I can't commit to putting the new words into the Word document that contains the "official" manuscript. So I open a brand new file, a kind of "this-is-a-pretend-not-really-permanent" document.
You know, like if Etch-A-Sketch had a word processing program.
This is very liberating, because on the days when the words seem permanently stuck behind an immovable mental obstacle, this technique lets things loose. I don't have to keep these words if I don't want to, because I didn't formally introduce them to the other words in the manuscript.
These new words can do all kinds of crazy cartwheels and jumping on the trampoline and giggling uncontrollably, and it's okay, because there's no guarantee they will be invited to stick around. Since they don't know if they're going to stay, they go wild and show me all kinds of cool things the old words didn't, or couldn't. A lot of my favorite ideas show up this way.
Imagine what it's like when these crazy ideas start trying to one-up each other.
The writing process involves two distinct types of tasks: creating, and editing. Since these activities utilize completely different areas of the brain, I often get ideas for editing one book at the same time I'm flying through the creation of a different book.
So I open another document – and download the contents of my brain onto that page. Then I can go back to the first book, and pick up where I left off before I got that little tap on my shoulder. Sometimes a perfect line of dialogue flashes before my eyes, or the best synopsis description ever rappels down a thought ganglion in my head. Off they go, into a document, for safekeeping, until it's their turn to be in the spotlight.
It sounds like a messy, barroom brawl kind of process, having to stay alert to what's in front of me, and then spinning around when I hear something yell, "Lookout! Over there!" and then back to the first one swinging to get my attention.
But it's also invigorating. It keeps my brain on its toes, so to speak. It doesn't have a chance to whine, "I'm booooooored." The internal editor can't keep up either, so she's twirling around, trying to figure out who to criticize first, often falling down exhausted without bitching about anything.
So. That is today's process. Tomorrow? Who knows. It could be very staid, typing away with no distractions, only one document in use. Or it could be even wilder than today's process. It's unpredictable.
That's what makes this writing thing so much FUN.
