Being a Scorpio, I've decided, is a detriment to a writer. As a Scorpio myself, I see all the characters in their varied complexity, I see their full histories and desires, I sense all the levels and layers to their lives and stories, and to corral all this, to simplify it and give it a clean, linear path, is very difficult for me. I'm constantly weaving elaborate webs in which I myself get caught.
But then, Sylvia Plath was born the same day as I, and she knew how to distill a complex thought. Dylan Thomas, a lion in my eyes, shares my birth date. Margaret Mitchell managed her complicated story quite well, as did Scorpios Marianne Moore, George Eliot, Robert Louis Stevenson, Bram Stoker, Kurt Vonnegut Jr., Albert Camus, Fyodor Dostoevsky, and the esteemed Margaret Atwood, among others. Anne Sexton, John Keats, and Ezra Pound were Scorpios. And John Irving! I mean, when I think about it, "Garp" couldn't have been written by other than a Scorpio.
I feel better now. If they can/could do it, so can I.
Wednesday
Back-Story Blues
The first screenplay I ever wrote turned out to be the easiest. It was born out of my frustration with a novel I couldn't manage. As a first-time novelist, I'd tackled a vast, multi-generational tale that I was in no way equipped to handle. The main story centered on a flawed female protagonist who falls in love against her will with an equally damaged man. This, the main story, was the one I found so difficult to write.
The back stories, on the other hand -- the stories of the generations that gave rise to this one -- flowed out of my pen effortlessly. With natural conflict and even some high-stakes drama, they practically wrote themselves.
Why was this the case? How are they any different? A story is a story, after all. Was I merely choking on the main story because it was the one that mattered, the hub around which all the other stories constellated? I still don't understand why I find then so easy to write, and now so impossible.
My solution to the problem with that novel was to take the main story and turn it into a screenplay, if only as an exercise. I was betting that the currency, pace and economy of a script would lend a freshness and urgency to the main story that was lacking in my novel. And it did. I'm very happy with that piece of work, all in all.
Ironically, I've now gone back to try my hand again with the original novel, and guess what's giving me fits? The back stories. Maybe it's time I turned them into screenplays, too.
The back stories, on the other hand -- the stories of the generations that gave rise to this one -- flowed out of my pen effortlessly. With natural conflict and even some high-stakes drama, they practically wrote themselves.
Why was this the case? How are they any different? A story is a story, after all. Was I merely choking on the main story because it was the one that mattered, the hub around which all the other stories constellated? I still don't understand why I find then so easy to write, and now so impossible.
My solution to the problem with that novel was to take the main story and turn it into a screenplay, if only as an exercise. I was betting that the currency, pace and economy of a script would lend a freshness and urgency to the main story that was lacking in my novel. And it did. I'm very happy with that piece of work, all in all.
Ironically, I've now gone back to try my hand again with the original novel, and guess what's giving me fits? The back stories. Maybe it's time I turned them into screenplays, too.
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