How (not) to become a writer… continued

Still with me? And curious to find out how and what I did?

I started out with a simple premise: A nightmarish sequence set in darkness, in my neck of the woods as it were, an exotic and spooky enough place even in daylight. Present the reader with a strange character driving a Bentley, add a corpse in a trunk and a bunch of rabid monkeys, then shake vigorously and see what comes out.

That was it. A somewhat grotesque story barely two pages long and nowhere to go from there. But this time a story that was not based on any of my personal experiences or nightmares. Instead – hey! – something that I’d created consciously. My partner loved it and wanted to read more. Surely the reader is entitled to find out who, why and where? I spent weeks ruminating about the continuation and the characters until I realised that those two pages were obviously someone’s dream. All I needed now was the dreamer. He was a piece of cake to construct initially, and quite two-dimensional – an irritating, self-assured git – with enough hints about his foreign surroundings to keep the reader hooked. (Allow me to point out that he and I have very little in common. He’s not even a caricature of me, I hope.)

Still without a clue about the plot but I figured it needed a love interest. Anything to keep the story going, right? Thankful to the hundreds of novels that I’d read over the years, I utilised all the standard writing techniques to create and maintain interest in the story. Then I made a mistake. I let the male and female protagonists meet and, as if by agreement, they decided to take over the storytelling.

I kid you not. I would sit down for my daily slog, knowing full well what I intended to write. Then these two would stage a coup and go off in a different direction. By now, I had the plot outlined, yet they often disagreed with me. I’d write complete chapters that, although they moved the story along nicely, I had no idea where they originated. Like a medium performing automatic writing, I appeared to channel the two protagonists instead of following my plan. On occasion, some of the events and situations seemed disconnected from the plot. Interesting, yes, but not really relevant. Yet, much later, they’d slot in perfectly with the development of the story, as if I’d meant them to. Even the last thirty pages or so differ wildly from how I wanted the ending. Without spoiling anything, I can confirm that I was as surprised as you will be once you’ve read it. Called The Influence, you’ll find the synopsis and a few samples from it elsewhere on this site.

I’m more experienced now, and will not knowingly give in to my protagonists’ whims. For both of the novels I’m currently working on I’ve got the stories planned in detail, from beginning to end. And I’m keeping a tight rein on all the characters. But who knows, I may slip occasionally and revert to channelling.