Intro A special thanks to Campfire writing software
for sponsoring this video.
Gather round!
Welcome back to Tale Tips, where I use my vast robot intellect to answer the questions
you have about writing, storytelling, and fiction!...
Or, that was the plan anyway.
Now that I think about it, I guess I'm really doing the opposite this time.
We're only on the second episode of this show, and you're already making me break form.
I guess that's what we get for putting the content in your hands.
But, I can't say I'm too disappointed.
This is an avenue we might not have explored otherwise.
Our lovely patron, Lord_Gatte, asks the question: What are some common writing myths that writers
should not subscribe to?
So really, instead of answering a question, what we're about to do is call a few things
into question.
For a writing channel, this is a bit overdue, isn't it?
So...
Let's get down to business.
As a writer-as an artist of any kind-you may find that you lie to yourself more often than
you expect.
You may not be able to see it at first, but for most of us, it's there, wrapped in conceit,
and inexperience, and fear.
You may tell yourself things which cause you more harm than any piece of bad advice or
negative criticism ever could.
All kinds of things, both obvious, and subtle.
You may tell yourself that there are "rules" for what makes a story "good".
Even though "there are no rules" is one of the most-repeated mantras of writers the world
over, you may yet fall into this trap.
Because truisms like "good stories are character-driven" and "good stories are about moral questions"
don't sound like rules-they just sound like schools of thought which you might or might
not subscribe to.
Make no mistake, there are certain methods and tools that can help you to achieve certain
effects.
Take the advice you receive seriously.
But also know that when you write from pretense, making decisions for your story simply because
you believe you have to, you may actually just be clipping its wings.
Worry less about what makes for "a good story" and more about being good to your story.
Pay attention to its specific needs, even if they're a little unorthodox.
You may tell yourself that a good idea will make for a good story.
The visions in your head may be so grand and so inventive, if only you commit them to the
page, they have no choice but to become something as brilliant as you imagine.
Half of this conviction comes from a place of passion, which is not a bad thing.
The other half is hubris, and it would benefit you to run screaming from it.
As the adage goes, "ideas are cheap, execution is everything."
In the hands of a master storyteller, the plainest ideas become classics.
In the hands of the over-confident and under-experienced, the best ideas are lost to mediocrity.
Spend at least as much time honing your execution as you do shaping your idea.
Learn to spin straw into gold, or you may end up doing the opposite.
You may tell yourself that writing is an act of transplantation.
That the object is to lift the thoughts whole-cloth from your mind, and place them into someone
else's.
You may wish for the audience to see, to feel, to know everything you did as the author.
If you do, you may be missing what makes literature such a special medium: the audience's imagination.
All of those descriptive and interpretive gaps you end up leaving in the text-those
are the sandboxes in which the mind plays.
The story is your creation, but it's partially the creation of the reader as well.
Consider what you're taking from it by trying to making it whole.
You may tell yourself that your work has to be entirely original.
That if you draw inspiration from anyone or anything else, it suddenly becomes derivative.
No longer yours.
That tropes will make your work cliché, and that you should be inventing your own methods
anyway.
But somewhere along the lines, you will find that instead of creating art, you're just
finding artful ways to dodge the familiar.
In the words of Robert McKee "difference for difference's sake is as hollow an achievement
as slavishly following the commercial imperative.
Write [...] what you believe."
You may tell yourself that you need to plan your work "perfectly".
And it may seem like a service to the story.
After all, without a discreet, all-inclusive outline, how are you supposed to know what
to write?
You'll just end up stumbling through in a chaos of whims and impulses, won't you?
Possibly, but that's better than writing nothing at all.
There will always be time to do more research, correct, re-write, revise.
At some point, if the story has any hope of existing, you've got to let go and write the
thing.
The author David Weber put it nicely: "if you keep saying 'I could be a writer' long
enough, one day you wake up and it's turned into 'I could have been a writer'."
Don't let your fear of failure hold the future ransom.
Not here, or anywhere.
You may tell yourself that your first work will be a masterpiece.
I certainly wouldn't blame you.
In fact, I think most new writers-or people who have never written for that matter-believe
this.
The notion that if you did it, it would be amazing can certainly be very galvanizing.
It can also be the complete opposite.
It turns your work into a gamble, on which you bet your time, your effort, your sanity,
and your self-image.
No longer are you writing because you're passionate about the idea or the process-you're writing
to fulfill some literary prophecy you've lain out for yourself.
That idea you've been sitting on, that book you've been trying to write since you were
twelve years old, has to work... even if all signs point to the opposite.
It sounds pessimistic, but this is a proven path to disappointment.
The truth is that precious few writers get their recognition, even when it's deserved.
Almost none of them do it on the first try.
Even Brandon Sanderson, author of more than a dozen bestsellers, had to write just as
many novels that were rejected before he found his stride.
Don't turn your passion into a gamble, don't lay the mantle of prophecy upon your own shoulders.
Write stories because you would want to read them, and let that be enough.
You WILL receive negative feedback, and you may tell yourself that it's the audience's
fault.
They must have "missed the point".
Or maybe they just "don't get it".
Could be that it's just "not the right audience".
These are all possibilities... but they're also not very useful to think about.
Sheltering your work, defending it, trying to protect it-these are not services to the
story.
The story doesn't need defending; the story doesn't care.
These actions serve only your author's ego.
And as wonderful as a healthy ego can be for confidence and creative momentum, it can also
become bloated in a hurry.
It can and will crowd everything else out if you let it.
Give your story room to grow.
You don't have to use all the feedback you receive, but at least receive it.
Even if it deflates your ego a little.
Especially if it does that.
You may tell yourself that you can write your story in one draft.
That with enough elbow grease and editing, any flaws can be polished right out.
And yes, to an extent, this is true.
But it's an unkind thing to do to your story.
An author rarely knows the story they mean to write before they try to write it.
Writing is itself an exploration, and the things you discover in the process have the
potential to change everything you've written so far.
It's a shame not to allow for those changes, just because you have material on the page
already.
And even if by some strange chance you discover little-to-nothing during the process that
demands much change... this thinking can still harm your work.
Just as trying to perfect the idea might keep you from starting, trying to perfect the text
as you write might keep you from finishing.
If you are editing as you go, trying to polish everything to perfection as it comes out,
you won't be going anywhere fast.
We can't all be Oscar Wilde.
The majority of us will need to write our stories a second, third, fourth time.
Let the first draft be terrible.
Let it be the wrong story, told imperfectly.
Then, once you know it better, write it again-this time for real.
It will thank you.
You may tell yourself, at times, that you are suffering from a condition called "writer's
block".
The river's run dry, words boiled away, mind run aground.
Writing, for whatever reason, has made itself impossible for you.
It can often feel as though the craft itself has abandoned you.
Writer's block is, however, not a condition.
It's a symptom.
It could come from stress, creative burn-out, depression, physical trauma, virtually anything
that makes creativity harder in any way.
It could be that you aren't eating enough or getting enough quality sleep.
It could be that you aren't talking to other humans anymore and losing the feel of speech.
You could just be distracted, or tired of the monotony of it.
You could just be lacking the answer to a problem your story has presented.
Whatever you do, don't blame the craft.
That way lies madness, and surrender.
Instead, think critically about your circumstances, your life, and the decisions you've made for
your story.
Think about what has changed or what's happening, think about what unnecessary expectations
you have of yourself or your work.
When you feel as though you cannot write, you may be shocked by how tangential the solution
is.
Question yourself when necessary, and always care for yourself.
It will show in your craft.
You may tell yourself that writing should come naturally.
The muses ought to be with you; words ought to flow from your fingertips like blood from
a wound.
Even Hemingway said that "there is nothing to writing.
All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed."
All you do... is bleed.
When I think about this quote, I don't see rapture, romance, or ease.
It sounds difficult.
It sounds to me like he's saying that there may not always be a grand epiphany or revelation,
the spirits may not always descend upon you.
Sometimes, it might be a simple sacrifice on your part-time, effort, sanity-for words
on a page.
It may at times be painful.
Painfully boring, painfully dull, painfully disappointing.
This is the blood you give, in the same cocktail with your sweat and tears.
And still... you write.
Because you have to; because it's your passion; because you believe in the story; because
you want it to exist, and there is no other way.
You cannot always write.
Sometimes, that isn't healthy.
But passion and ease are not the same thing.
Writing with passion can and will sometimes feel like opening a wound.
You aren't failure if it doesn't come painlessly.
You may tell yourself all of these things, you may tell yourself none.
All that truly matters is that you remain critical of your own convictions, cautious
of your motives.
Without any malice, you can end up the antagonist of your own story.
Trust me, in all the years I've spent making stuff up, I've certainly told myself all of
these lies, and more.
Hopefully this brief introduction helps some of you to notice whether you're doing the
same.
It can be hard to keep yourself honest when you can't even keep the story straight, though.
Before you reflect, you might first need to lay it all out.
And Campfire Pro can help.
Campfire Pro is a writing software with tons of tools to keep you organized.
Its character pages will help you keep track of all your characters with details and backstories.
Timelines can help you hammer out all those plot points.
You can even track character arcs and use the map view to create all the locations you
need.
Best of all, the stories you write are private and no one else can access them.
You'll also definitely want to check out the brand new Worldbuilding Pack.
It's an expansion to Campfire Pro with even more tools to help build your story's world.
Construct new species, items, magic systems, and develop your cultures with religions,
philosophies, and languages with this massive bundle of features.
Campfire Pro has a 10-day free trial and 10-day return policy.
If you decide to buy, it is a one-time purchase of $49.99, and then it's yours forever!
Do away with all of those word documents and spreadsheets.
Keep everything easily accessible, and keep yourself honest.
Click the link in the description to learn more.
And finally, before we wrap up, I'd like to give a quick thanks to all the helpful humans
who support the show on Patreon.
All those words you see scrolling in the background of these videos?
Those are actually the names of our Patreon maintenance crew, without whom this show would
be impossible.
And a special word to all our top patrons: Excelsius, Lord_Gatte, Puzzling Shutterbug,
and The Autumn Writer - thank you so much.
We'll be deciding on our next Tale Tips question soon, so make sure you subscribe to the channel
and leave your question below!
Who knows-I might even end up answering it.
Until then, thanks for watching, and keep making stuff up!
I'll see you...
next time.
Bye!