My Creative Process…the first part, at least

It’s been quiet here on my blog lately; I’m down in the trenches with writing Book Six of The Awakened and haven’t had time to do much of anything but write, write, write. From what readers tell me, that’s exactly how I should be spending my time. But I wrote this post earlier in the month and thought I’d finally put it up, just so you know I haven’t fallen off the face of the earth.

Since I’m knee-deep in the creative process, and many people have asked me what it takes to turn an idea into a story, I’d like to share the first part of my writing process with you.

As I mentioned in an earlier post, I prefer to work from general things to specific details, from higher-level thinking to lower-level thinking. Some authors just sit down and start typing, relying on the spontaneity of the moment to direct their stories. I like to start with a framework, and make room for spontaneity at the lower levels of detail. Rather than writing and scrapping whole chapters, as some do, my process is to go through those motions mentally.

The first stage of my creative process is to approach the story as a sculpture. I begin chipping away at it from multiple angles until the final form is revealed. I live on both sides of the plot-versus-character debate. If there are particular plot details that are non-negotiable—events that must take place—I write them down. If there are certain character developments that are a necessity, I write those down as well. Then I begin to ask myself questions.

“What characters are involved in this story? What do they want? What is standing in their way? Should they achieve their goals, or be prevented from them? What emotional issues are they struggling with? How will they overcome these issues? Where do I want this character to end up in contrast to where they started?”

When I’ve run out of creative energy on the character front, I switch to the plot.

“Are there political alliances involved? If so, how would they react to this event? How can I add more tension to that scene? How can I make that thing that must occur into something interesting for the reader? How can use this character’s subplot to complicate or reinforce the main plot? How does this setup the story for the next book?”

Round and round I go, until the story begins to take shape. When I have a good grasp of the individual elements of the story, then I start looking for how to piece them together into a coherent story. I call this process storyboarding, based on the visual puzzle assembly process used in the movie industry. And this brings up another slew of questions.

“Are there too many scenes from this character’s perspective? Do I have too many non-action scenes bunched together? Is there any emotional development taking place during this battle scene? What can I do to speed up the pace of this section? What does the reader need to see here in order to catch their breath?”

When all the puzzle pieces are in place, the story has its framework. I can rest assured that a critical detail hasn’t been left out. I know where the story is going and how it will get there.

Now it’s time to start typing, which requires a whole different level of creativity.