Writing Tip: Risks

When writers first sit down to write, I think they all end up playing it safe. They stick to their favorite genre, they tend to write like their favorite author, and they generally favor the plot elements that most established writers think of as cliches. I think this is a good thing actually, because when you first sit down to try to tell a story you're essentially starting to teach yourself how to write--the basics such as grammar and sentence variation and structure and all that other stuff. In order to focus on that, you play with the toys that have already been thrown into the sandbox.

But eventually, if you seriously want to get published, you're going to have to break out of that sandbox and try something new. You're going to have to take a risk. Playing it safe will only get you so far, and using the same toys in the same standard ways won't get you noticed or published. And what I mean by taking risks doesn't mean changing elves to Aerians and dwarves to Ormains. That's a surface change. You need to take a risk with a character, with the plot, with SOMETHING significant.

Before I go any further, a disclaimer: this is not a new topic or a new idea, and I'm unlikely to say something you haven't already heard. So if you're looking for that stunning idea, the one you haven't read before but that breaks that wall in your head apart and makes all writing suddenly make sense . . . you're not likely to find it. I'm hoping that this post encourages someone who's hesitant about taking that risk to finally push through that hesitance and just do it.

This is basically my writing story as it relates to risk. I of course started out with the standard plot for my first novel: group goes off on a quest to find the object that they think will save their world. I'm not ashamed of this in any way because I still love that story and those characters and that plot, and also because that first book was my learning curve. I didn't take any real classes about writing, didn't go to a writer's retreat, didn't attend any conferences or conventions on writing, nothing. I just wrote. And wrote and wrote and rewrote, and in the process I taught myself how to write. That was what the first book did for me, and using the standard plot and characters allowed me to focus on that. The book didn't get published (yet) and that was hugely disappointing . . . but that's because I hadn't taken any risks. I got a little notice because the writing was good, but it didn't go anywhere because it laked that risk, that edge. And that's what gets books published.

I didn't realize this at the time. So after years of frustration, I moved on to a different book. And this time, I took a risk . . . for me. I decided to switch to a different POV, one that I knew wasn't as accepted (first person), and I switched to a genre that I wasn't as familiar with (mainstream suspense). And I wrote and wrote and rewrote, and in the process learned that I could pull off first person and I could write a rather suspenseful novel. This added a few new elements to the basics writing aspects I'd learned with the first book. In Stephen King's terms (from his "On Writing" book), I'd added a few new tools to my toolbox. Taking that risk is what did that. But those risks were more personal risks; they were writing tool risks, not STORY risks. And the publishers will be interested only when you take risks with STORY, with character and plot and setting. I hadn't pushed myself that far yet, and that's what I really needed to do.
That second book was rejected, although I was generating more interest at this point with my writing. So I got alot of rejections (from both agents and editors) where they said they loved the writing, but the book wasn't for them. I think that's what those types of rejections mean: it isn't the book really that's the problem; its that you haven't taken big enough risks with the book.

I think I finally got it after writing that book. Not on a conscious level. I didn't sit back and say, "Ah, I see, I'm not taking a big enough risk!" No, no. I got pissed. *grin* I'd been rejected, but had come close, and I KNEW I'd come close. I could taste it. But I hadn't made it yet and it totally ticked me off. I still remember bitching to my fellow writers at our soon-to-be weekly meetings about it all.

And that anger is what made me take a risk. When I sat down to write The Skewed Throne, I had decided that I wouldn't hold anything back. I'd shied away from getting too close to the characters, and so I decided to get so close to Varis that it was uncomfortable. I'd shied away from violence, and so I tried to make the violence a living part of the book (but not the point of the book). I'd shied away from trying anything really new with the world and plot, and so I set the book entirely in one city (practically one street) with no quest, and I introduced a magic system without light shows and fancy language and all that, with a crazy throne, I mean, why the hell not? Insane furniture hadn't been done before as far as I knew. I took some huge risks. I basically said, "Screw it! I'll make it as intense as I possibly can!" And I did. I think that's what made The Skewed Throne different. I broke down all of the walls that I didn't even realize I'd constructed, especially regarding violence (which I don't generally agree with as a solution, although you wouldn't know that from reading the books), but in particular regarding character. I can honestly say (now) that before this I shied away from a real, significant, meaningful connection to my characters. I'd only do a surface treatment of them; I wouldn't get PERSONAL. I was keeping myself removed. But with Skewed Throne, I broke through that remove and I GOT personal, as personal as I possibly could.

I can see the progression to that risk now, in hindsight. I can see how I was starting to break through that remove from my characters in that second mainstream suspense novel, although I hadn't pushed myself far enough there. At no point during this entire process did I ever actually think that I was taking a risk. Not in those terms anyway. But I recognize now that that's what I was doing with Skewed Throne: taking a risk. A big risk. One that regarded the STORY and not just a writing technique I hadn't tried.
So Skewed Throne got published, which was exciting. Only after writing the last few books have I come to realize that progression of risk in my writing, and that the risk is probably what pushed my writing beyond just good into the publishable realm. What I didn't expect was that I'd have to continuously remind myself to take risks.

On my current work in progress, Well of Sorrows, I was writing the first chapter, practically the first page, and I found myself backing away from something, and the realization that I was backing off--that I was RETREATING from something--shocked me. I mean, I'd written three books already, sold them, passed them through an editor . . . and yet I was BACKING OFF of writing something! Why?
Because it was a risk. In the scene, my main character was being beaten up by a gang of thugs, not for the first time, and he'd reached the point where they'd kicked him so hard that he was going to piss his pants . . . and I was going stop right there. Before he pissed his pants. Because, well, that's icky. Seriously! I could kill people right and left in Skewed Throne, but I was backing off of someone pissing his pants! What the . . . !

But then I realized why I was backing off: because this represented a hugely traumatic event in the main character's life. The shame of losing control, of being forced to face his mother, or even worse, his FATHER, with stained breeches, and mix in the anger at being beaten, the shame from THAT, and all of these riled up, conflicting emotions . . . it was TOO PERSONAL, and I didn't want to deal with it, and so I was BACKING OFF.

But I cuaght myself. I stopped, and saw what I was doing, and even though it was hard, I forced myself to write the story that wanted to be written (not the story I thought at first) and forced myself to live through that character's shame and pain over pissing his pants. And you know what? The first four chapters of that novel, where I deal with that shame and anger and what it made that character do . . . I feel that it's the best part of the novel so far. It may not be the key moment of the novel, or even really the main plot, but it's the best part. Because I took that risk, and the risk made the character real, it made the story come alive, and the result was a section of the book that actually makes me say, "Holy shit, I can't believe I wrote that!"

I think it will draw the reader into the book and make them love and hate the main character. It will make the character REAL.

*sigh* So that's my story of risk. Since that section, I've caught myself backing off of a few other things, and caught myself, and forced myself to forge ahead, no matter how weird or awkward or uncomfortable it made me personally feel. Because if it makes ME feel uncomfortable, then think of the impact it may have on the READER! Think of that power, to make the reader suck in their breath, or shiver, or shudder, or just say, "Oooo!"

And the point of the post? Mostly, I just want those younger writers out there to realize that they need to take risks, that perhaps the reason you've been getting rejections, even nice rejections, is because you aren't taking the big risks. Make yourself feel a little uncomfortable. Remember, the best part of writing is that you can always revise it later, so there's no reason you CAN'T take the risk. Just try it and see what happens. You may be at the point where you think you're taking risks, but you aren't (like I said, I only see where I took risks in hindsight). Or perhaps you aren't taking the right risks; maybe you're taking writing technique risks, but not STORY risks. And I think part of the point of the post is to remind myself (and other published writers, although I doubt you need the reminder) that you have to continue to take risks if you want your writing to rock.

Take the risk. It's worth it.