Normally, I’m not a huge plotter.  I will have a scene focused in my mind, or sometimes a character, or more often, a setting (heavens help me then because I have to figure out what kinds of characters will fit in that setting, and who they are.  If I have a character in mind, I’m already there), and work around that.  First drafts happen when I build on that spark.  If it’s a scene, I build on the setup and use other scenes to build the environment around that scene.  If it’s a character, it usually starts with a narrative, and through the course of the draft, I’ll figure out what the big moment that changed his or her life was, and expand from there.  Then when I’ve finished with the draft, I’ll go back and fill in all the blanks I had to leave, or retcon all the prior actions that changed as the story progressed.  I need that discovery process in order to get a good handle on the story.

At the end of the process, though, lies the beginning.  Beginnings, inciting incidents, starting points–they’re where the story starts, and in them is held the promise of the ending, and a map of sorts to the journey to get there. Beginnings are the area where I need to focus the most, and they take the longest time and the most attempts to get right.  I go through several false starts–choosing inciting incidents or kickoff events that aren’t the most cohesive choices.

The aggravating thing is that this isn’t directly evident right away.  It takes me a while to try on the beginning and see how it fits.  And like cheap shoes, invariably what started out as a good idea and a great bargain ends up biting me in the ass.  Or rather, rubbing at my heels.  Which is why I’ve taken to buying better-quality shoes in fewer quantities, and wearing the suckers out when I find a pair I like.  Unfortunately, I can’t blow a bigger wad at the Story Beginnings outlet like I can at the shoe warehouse.  It’s an investment of words and time spent living into the idea.  I know it’s time well spent, but I’m not happy that I have to spend it.  I know it’s ruling out what doesn’t work, but I’d rather have that time and those words be devoted to something that does work and isn’t just something that doesn’t not work, the way “not bad” does not equate to “good.”

But like it or lump it, it’s what I do, what my brain needs to do, as part of my writing process.  Until I figure out a better way, and sell that better way to my brain, I’m stuck with what I’ve got.  On the whole, it could be worse, but it’s times like today when “worse” is relative.