The Museverse

Make a mess.

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Me: I'm going to finish writing my book this year!

Also me: writes 2 words a month

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Plot doesn’t matter.

No, really. It doesn’t.

Write mindless stories. Character A gets out of bed and eats breakfast. The end.

Boring.

Now, the same event, but Character A has an existential crisis after getting out of bed. The fluffy purple rug on the floor reminds them of their grandmother, who’s favorite color was purple. She taught them how to bake. The memory sparks a shift in Character A’s mind and they decide to quit their job and open a bakery.

Perspective changes in an instant. Everyday occurrences combined with the particularities of a moment prompt the shift.

We know what we want. We just don’t believe we are capable of getting it.

Take another possibility with Character A. A blend of chemicals in the brain fire at just the right time, which convinces Character A to have eggs for breakfast instead of heart attack cereal. And that small decision empowers Character A to be healthier. This in turn prompts them to realize they have control over their life, so they finally have the guts to quit their job and start a bakery.

We know what we want. We just don’t believe we are capable of getting it. Not until, like Character A, we have an epiphany over heart attack cereal and purple rugs.

That is the difference between plotless drivel and story. Character A’s desires and values altered ordinary events and set the rest of the story in motion. A story that is not a rote narrative of events, but an intricate look at character growth and development.

Dig deep. What are your characters dissatisfied with? What do they want? What are their insecurities? What do they regret?

These questions will lead to the heart of your story.

The plot will fall into place.

Eventually.

Until it does, keep writing.

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Gertrude knew her stuff

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Everyone has their own realities. I get tired of mine, so I throw them into a trash fire and buy new ones.

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There comes a time in the life of all writers when Others give Advice.

Run away.

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There comes a time in the life of all secret writers when Others give Advice.

Run away.

Such guidance inevitably leads to the Trap of Being Who You Are Supposed to Be – the worst of all fates.

Advice is not intrinsically bad. It could even provoke inspiration. However, nine times out of ten, it fuels doubtful motivations such as Money, Fame, & Success.

Of course, we all know the only motivations that actually work are banana pudding, naps, and drinkable yogurt. All other motivations lead directly to DOOM.

DOOM has a talent for disguise. It looks so cheerful, benevolent, simple.

Do X, Y, & Z and you will SUCCEED

Do A, B, & C and you will FAIL

Here’s a secret: X, Y, & Z are boring as shit; A, B, & C are the shit.

Life is a trap. This is a pessimistic, but fun, outlook. To look upon humanity, so full of hope and wonder, and know that everything is shit, always has been shit, and always will be full of shit. A comfortable reality really. If you don’t like it, pick a new one.

Everyone has their own realities. I get tired of mine infrequently, so I throw them into a trash fire and buy new ones.

What does this have to do with writing? What the hell is a secret writer?

I have no idea.

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The only motivations that actually work are banana pudding, naps, and drinkable yogurt. All other motivations lead directly to DOOM.

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The Unfortunate Domestication of Wild Writerdom

Prior to domestication, writers command a distinct self with particularities and talents. Somewhere along this blissful path, their souls are squashed by the Inevitable Plague of the Life Crisis. The realization of what one should be dawns. Doubt grows and all sorts of horrifying notions fill the weakened mind. Writers ought to do such and such, an invisible creature formed of Everybody’s Opinions says. Avoid this mistake! Don’t write in this format! Don’t write in such and such POV!

Rules.

Art is not rules. Replicating the success of others holds you back. To be the best writer you can be, you must be wholly yourself.

Stop listening to People.

People aren’t you.

I used to think some people were “born” creative. That certain personalities were inherently more creative than others. True creatives possessed the ability to create concretely on the fly. I was slow. I should not have been creative. My ideas were not original. I was not intuitive.

That was before I knew myself. Before I understood I absorb pieces of information from millions of places and transform them into something cohesive; not a story so much as a feeling. Fuzzy at first but mutating into something new. Once epiphany struck, I learned to trust my process and appreciate the way I created. Then I loved writing because I did not have to pretend or follow someone else’s model of creation.

Turn off the advice. Listen to your inner self. In the silence, you will hear a whisper.

Listen.

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If writing was a video game, creativity would be the heart containers. You start with one. The first attempt at writing earns a second. A bucket load of scribbling and half a manuscript earns a few more, etc. The containers empty as you create and when the last is used up you lie helpless on the kitchen floor, waiting for lighting to strike you dead so you may rise once more. Even the most accomplished writers, run out of hearts from time to time – or most of the time.

For example, the other day I read fanfiction for ten hours straight and lost like thirteen hearts – accompanied by an intense desire to write but no stamina to do so. Thankfully, I found a few helpful hints in a handy dark grimoire. By using a few of them, I was able to write my very own fanfiction. I mean novel…it was definitely a novel. I would never write fanfiction.

HELPFUL HINTS FROM MY DARK GRIMOIRE:

Bang on some pots. Are you a quarter of a heart away from death and extinction? If so, an emergency nap is in order. Tell your mother to bang a pot or two in your direction in twenty minutes and go to sleep. You will wake up just as you have managed to go to doze off and will resent her for the rest of the hour until you realize your brooding restored one heart.

Sacrifice a chicken. You did not forget to eat. The unpleasant hollowness in your stomach reached your awareness four hours ago, but you postponed lunch so you could browse Tumblr for five more minutes. Several hours later, you decided preparing food was too much work and ate a bag of chips instead. Now you are full and cranky. Fix it immediately by consuming half a chicken and a couple of steaks. Your powers will be fully restored, but you will still feel like shit.

Travel to the beyond. You have been thinking all day. Stop it. Nothing drains hearts faster than thinking about writing. Close your eyes and think of nothing at all until you reach the Land of Absolute Boredom. Endure it for at least twenty seconds, then open your eyes. A heart or two will materialize and you will find writing either incredibly easy or feel an intense need to redecorate.

Throw all your writing paraphernalia on the floor. Manuscripts, scraps of artsy scribbles, crumbled up paper from the trash. Fling yourself on top of it all and bask in the creative aura. Absorb it into your soul. All your hearts will be restored and you will write for at least ten hours straight.

If none of these brilliant solutions worked for you, I don’t know what to say. Maybe get a cat or something.

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Muses. Champions of the arts. A misunderstood species thanks to Greek historians and Walt Disney. Muses are all around us. There is probably one in the closet under your stairs, the dusty tea kettle on your shelf, or the pocket of your favorite jacket.

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The Jeffrey Muse

This muse has no purpose at all. It merely delights in hovering near aspiring writers and convincing them they are about to be inspired by the eternal flame of epiphany. Millions of novels have gone unfinished because of this muse. If you see one, shoot on sight.

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The Muse of Eccentricity

This muse does not care about writing at all. Rather, it delights in making writers eccentric. You may have begun your writing career as a rational being. By the time this muse is finished, you will waltz about your front porch to Shostakovich at 3:00 AM with a bottle of mystical concoctions. Your neighbors will call the cops and you will be arrested. But you will find it dreadfully inspiring and build a shrine to worship this muse as a secondary deity.

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The Reaper Muse

A favorite of crime novelists, the Reaper lurks in the shadows then strikes when the plot is ripe for untimely death. The more shocking, the better. Reward it by offering a satisfying conclusion to the novel’s mystery. If you write a lame conclusion, it will ask for a refund.

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The Muse of Angst

Dark, brooding, and incredibly hopeless, this muse thrives on misunderstanding. If you need a bit of tension when characters are getting along too well, look no further. But exercise caution. They often linger to watch your novel progress and make cryptic remarks when jubilation occurs.

Where to find: Play melancholy classical music. Beethoven’s 7th 2nd should do the trick.

[aritany]

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The Muse of Disruption

Contrary to the negative nature of its name, this muse is indispensable. Is your plot simmering to a bumbling crawl? Disruption will sweep in like the eagles in Lord of the Rings, delivering catastrophe, shocking revelations, and unexplained personality changes. Establish a friendly relationship with it before it leads your plot into permanent chaos. I get along marvelously with one named Steve. We drink tea together every Saturday morning.

Where to find: This muse has an internal compass which draws them to dying plots. Do not be frightened by the scales. They are quite soft.