From End to Beginning (Creativity Part III)
Let’s take a moment. I know this doesn’t need to be said, but here it is: everyone’s approach to creativity is different. That said, I talked to a friend today who also writes and consults in marketing about his approach to the process. It was basically the same as mine.
Finish at the Start
The end dictates everything that happens. Because this is true, you have to start with the end. Story arc is something I always cover when we speak at elementary schools. It’s an easy thing with the illustrated series because the stories start and end at Molly and Michael’s house. There are many other elements we present, but the story itself ends where it begins, with knowledge gained.
It is, naturally, different with a longer story and the example genre here is a mystery. There is a sought outcome that may or many not involve location, but has everything to do with knowledge. The knowledge may be a location, or who did it–basically, the resolution of the main conflict. Items must be found, secrets uncovered, clues understood, trials faced, shortcomings overcome, and villains defeated. Some of it happens along the way. The story’s goal must be clear, both to writer and, eventually, reader. Everything in your story arc must serve the story resolution.
You have to know the end before you begin. If you do not, there is nothing to direct where the story goes. Obscure the end, make it uncertain to the reader, but be certain for the purpose of writing.
Wide Open Choices
The Shield of Horatius is a story about a lost artifact. That was the resolution I sought. So…where do I start?
It’s much easier to see the process in hindsight. I introduced the story of the artifact, its user, its protector, and then its finders (while also revealing the reason for their journey). It is a four-and-a-half page introduction that spans 2,500 years. It’s not a dry introduction, the first two segments take place in the heat of battle. Actually, I didn’t write the first segment, it is quoted from the Roman historian Livy. The second segment is historical fabrication on my part, though it takes place during events that are part of the historical record. The third part (re)introduces two of the main characters.
There was an end, now there is a beginning.
How do we go from Point A to Point B? There must be points along the way. We move, within the story, in increments that inform, shock, frighten, endear, or produce any other effect we want to have on the reader. The goal is twofold: move toward the end and keep the reader interested.
It is at this point that you stop looking at the whole process as “creative.” Why? Because you’re filling gaps, doing things that make sense, creating the necessary events to lead to a plausible and exciting conclusion. You’re creative at every turn–varying sentence structure, using vivid language, revealing character–but it doesn’t seem so. For the writer, it’s a straight line from beginning to end, though the story may (and should) include twists and turns.
That is why creative process, in this context, is difficult to describe. There is no ritual I can give someone to think creatively. When you have the end and know where to start, the rest reveals itself. It doesn’t have the feel of creation, it is just storytelling. The thing is, and this is difficult to remember, the story only exists inside of you. No one else knows even if it is something that in your mind seems so clear.
And it is clear, or will be when things are going well. Things line up, twists pop to mind, the story pours out of you…when things go well.
When things don’t go well, there are a few things that help and we’ll discuss those next time.