Of Custer and Kayaking
Today feels like it's going to be a zero-word day, Frenzy-wise. I'm just not feeling it. I don’t know what "it" is exactly, but it isn't being felt.
I'm supposedly writing a comedy, but I've yet to write a scene that makes me laugh out loud. Actually, I haven't written a line that makes me laugh out loud. There are a couple of chucklers, but they are horribly outnumbered by a combined force of cringers and ho-hummers. I'm like Custer, except I'm making my stand at the Battle of the Little Biglaugh.
Writing is a lot like kayaking. Every original story is an unexplored river. Long before dipping a paddle in the water, experienced kayakers research the river – poring over topographical maps, choosing where to put in and take out, and scouting potential trouble spots via helicopter. Long before typing a word, experienced writers research the story – fleshing out characters, outlining the plot, and scanning for potential hurdles.
Inexperienced kayakers (and writers) do none of this. Like me, they just start off, not knowing where they're going or what lies ahead. They naively assume they'll survive whatever obstacles they encounter (be they rapids, crocodiles, or plot inconsistencies).
Fortunately, for writers, the assumption of survival is mostly true (unless one is the type of writer who considers public humiliation a fate worse than death). If writing was exactly like kayaking, we would hear many more cautionary tales of writers drowning or becoming mid-morning crocodile snacks. We would also see more writers wearing life vests when typing away at laptops in coffee shops.
Another concept writing and kayaking have in common (and this is the point of the previous three paragraphs of nonsense) is the idea of portage.
If a kayaker reaches an impassable section of a river, he or she simply portages or carries his or her kayak around the difficult spot and resumes the journey further downstream.
Writers can do something similar. If they come upon an unnavigable point in the story, they can simply portage to a different chapter or scene and return to the tricky spot later if they choose. Luckily, laptops weigh a lot less than kayaks (at least they have for the last ten years or so), so it's easy for writers to slip out of and back into a story stream whenever and wherever they want.
Sometimes, I get so caught up writing a particular scene or hung up trying to write a funny line, I forget about portage. I forget I can temporarily leave it behind and pick up the story at a different point.
Portage is what I'm going to try later today to keep this from being a zero-word day. What makes it even nicer is that my story isn't so much a river (with a defined course) as it is an ocean (with an endless coast of possibilities), which is a good thing right now, but won't be in another week or so.
If you're participating in Script Frenzy, I hope your screenplay is coming along. If you get stuck, give portage a try. It wouldn't have been much help to Custer, but it might just be a help to you.
