Showing posts with label lists. Show all posts
Showing posts with label lists. Show all posts

Wednesday, January 27, 2010

Check Off

I was amused to see and read in this week's Times Book Review a review of a book called The Checklist Manifesto, byAtul Gawande. Amused because only the day before I put such a checklist up on the wall by my writing chair.

This to-do list of mine is less detailed than an outline and more specific than an ideas list, and focuses on the scenes I know I need to write. Gawande apparently asserts that simple checklists can help avoid errors in the workplace. That's too much for this writer to hope for, at least with a first draft; still, I use and value them for making small the otherwise huge and daunting task of novel-writing. Each time I sit down to write, a quick glance at what's next on my "Need to do" scene checklist consoles me; the end is attainable.

Since Saturday I've already rearranged the order of scenes on my list, deleted some scenes (and characters) from the story, and added two more. The paper is now a mess of arrows and margin scribbles and thick lines crossing out ideas I once thought were inspired. And yes, there are some nice bold check marks (Done!) across several of the items.

Of course, the scenes are the fun and easy part of story writing; it's the connective tissue that makes the job hard. Still, I believe that a well-done scene should be easy to get into and out of, so the scene by scene approach, especially as I know where I'm headed, seems right for now.

MQ

Thursday, December 17, 2009

Lessons from Frog and Toad

The other night I asked Peter (the writer I live with) if he wanted me to read him a story. We were tucked in bed and he was reading some 700 page book on his ipod. Yes, his ipod. He didn't really want me to but I insisted.

So I read him a Frog and Toad story called "A List." The cadence of it was so nice. The story was so well put together. It was funny and sweet. A good story to read right before bed. And while I'm sure that kids would like it, it hit this adult very hard. Making lists is such an important part of my life. The story ends with Toad saying, "There. Now my day is all crossed out!" Don't we all know that feeling? When I finished reading it, Pete said, "That was nice."

I asked him if he wanted me to read him another one. He said, "No, thanks," and went back to reading a few lines at a time on his ipod. I finished Frog and Toad all by myself. I smiled all the way through and then my day was crossed out too.

Monday, October 5, 2009

The Beginning of the Week

Funny how, even though I have no regular job to keep track of the days of the week, when Monday comes around, I feel like I have to gear up.  So what does it mean to gear up?  Find the top of my desk again, go over my calendar, try to clear off my emails (even the ones that have been sitting there for weeks), and, of course, make my list.

Yes, fellow storytellers, I'm a very serious list-maker.  I am even one of those who puts things on the list after I've done them just to be able to check them off.  But one thing I have learned about making a good and satisfying list is to break activities down so I get full credit for every step.  

When it comes to writing a book, that means putting down research I have to do, trips to the library, reading other books, all of these things count.  Then I list the chapters as I'm about to write them.  So for one week I might list two or three chapters, depending on how quickly I'm cruising along.  On a daily list (I know, it's a bit obsessive with the monthly, weekly, daily routine) I will write how many pages. 

This is all about patting myself on the back and giving myself credit for every single task I perform in order to write.  Even running (that's where I think up my ideas). 

I try not to brutalize myself with these lists.  They were signposts, not beat-myself-over-the- head-if-I-don't-do-them duties.  I think my lists are often my companions, supportive.  When you work alone you have to find some ways to praise yourself and shout encouragement.  That red pen slashing through another job done feels mighty good.