That’s it. There is a new decision afoot in Flakedom.
I have tried my usual method of writing. It is one that seems to be recommended quite a bit in memoir writing books. They suggest a memoirist merely needs to write organically. That is, I should just Recall and Remember stories and snippets out of time and don’t you worry about how it will turn out…it just will, and eventually you’ll stitch it all into a big quilt of a book that will be lovely and will hold together and be a thing of beauty…
Well.
So far, I have the Word Doc equivalent of random bits of fabric scattered throughout my computer like a bomb went off at a quilting bee. And then, because I am grabbing and sending bits of paisley and checks and flannelly anecdotes, my kind Humber Online mentor (Name Dropping Alert!) David Bergen, said,
“Okay. Fresh plan. Just throw me a chapter of a novel. Create a character and then, either in first person or a limited third-person narrator, have them go up against something.” (Clearly I’m paraphrasing, he writes much better than that).
Easy-Peasy right?
Not so much.
I always need to read six new books and peruse multiple websites to make sure I’m doing it right. (Can you spell avoidance?) I realize he just wants me to knock something off, but alas, I am instead off on a new tack.
I’ve had Save The Cat! by Blake Snyder for some time. Admittedly, it’s a book on writing screenplays. But that’s not so different than a book…not really.
Here’s how I propose to save myself; forget the organic quilt approach of stitch-a-story and then pray for some amazing revelation as to how to put it together…nope, I am actually going to use this book to help me plan an approach.
I’m going to go out on a limb here. It’s true. I’m thinking I might do an actual outline of sorts. Yes. You heard it here first. An Outline. Clearly I’m desperate.
PS. If you’re wondering about the picture? I was just thinking about the wonderful Zwieback that my mother used to make. I wanted a picture of those sweet buns so I could imagine a little blob of melting butter, the yeasty aroma…Ah yes, just another cotton piece of memory in that quilt that I was working on.