The Writing Hierarchy

What makes me so passionate about the words I write? Perhaps it’s a little of the perfectionist in me shining through. I want to create the perfect sentence–one that conveys exactly as much as needed to evoke a thought or emotion, but nothing more. Much in the way that Kurt Vonnegut crafts his sentences, I wish to craft my own. But most of all, I see it as an art form. It’s a creative release for me. Like all things, however, it takes more than a single sentence to create a story. Putting them all together in such a way to make us feel something when we read it is where the real artistry comes in.

How do you get to a point where you can do that, though? You have to read a lot. It’s the same concept behind how you know whether something is fashionable. If you don’t observe those around you, then you’re not going to understand which colors go together, or what types of clothing are appropriate to wear to a certain function. Just like with clothes, there are many ways to select and organize the words in your wordrobe (hah!) to accomplish your goal. With people, it’s a numbers game. Not everyone interprets what you say in the same way, and frequently enough they take it in a completely bizarre direction. The words you choose, the order they’re in, and the flow of thoughts will ultimately affect whether the emotion is conveyed to the maximum audience possible.

This gets me thinking about all the writing efforts that I’ve made in my life: short stories, novels, proposals, technical writing, and blog posts. First question to myself: what exactly is my process?, and second: how effective has my process been?

Step 1 - Brainstorm everything that is relevant

I start any writing effort by first thinking of every single thought I’ve had about a topic, and then creating a list in a text file. The items are in no particular order, and can be something completely unrelated to whatever theme I’m eventually going to write about. I often don’t know exactly what that is until after I set my fingers on the keyboard. My topics typically come from something that I’ve thought about that day or some emotion that I had. After this step, I’ve done a complete brain dump.

Step 2 - Categorize and cluster based on “subjective criteria”

In this step, I use my trusty arrow keys and the cut and paste function to move thoughts around, gradually forming them into a set of clusters. Typically there are around 4-5 of them. It’s an iterative process that eventually leads to my subconscious settling on a final structure. It’s very difficult for me to consider the whole picture at once from a bunch of random thoughts. It’s much easier for me to categorize and cluster them into groupings, which then become how I understand the problem.

Step 3 - Order the clusters

My posts often have an introduction (why I am writing this), a process (or set of supporting criteria), a realization (what did I learn today?), and a conclusion (pithy statements and purple prose). Usually, each of the clusters fit within one of these categories, and I move them around in the text file until I’m comfortable.

Step 4 - Determine the theme

Once I have ordered clusters, I can usually understand what I’m going to write about from a high level. At this point, I decide if I have enough information to create an argument or tell a story. If not, I do additional research to fill in any of the missing gaps, such as dealing with weak or missing clusters. I know whether they’re weak or missing because of experience. As you get older, you realize that everything that happens in the world typically follows the same set of archetypal patterns and the gaps become more apparent.

Step 5 - Order the sentences within each cluster and connect them

Now that I have a general idea of what I’m trying to convey in each section, I order the sentences within the section to best convey that thought. This is a highly subjective process, and is possibly one of my favorite activities. It feels really good to connect one sentence to the next and see a previously context-less set of words form a cohesive thought. It feels even better when I can tangibly connect with the power of the words as they form paragraphs. (Ok, possibly a bit nerdy, but you know …). After this, I have my first draft. Voila!

Step 6 - Read. Edit. Re-Read. Re-Edit, Re-Read, …

This is where the flow really makes a difference. You can build each section independently, but if you don’t have the right transitions, it is very obvious that the thoughts and emotions don’t flow from one section to the next. You also need to make sure that the impact of the overall piece isn’t affected by extraneous information. This is perhaps the most important part of the entire process, because I likely remove 15-30% of what I’ve written. This is not the step for the sentimental or hworders (hah, hworders, like hoarders… okay I’ll show myself out). Sometimes, I skimp on this step and only do a single read-through (see “The Belief Gremlin”). In other cases, I’ve read and re-read it up to 90 times (see “Love Letter”).

This process is actually almost identical to the one I use at work. As a software engineer, I brainstorm and list out everything I think could be related to the problem I’m working on, and then organize them into categories. Those becomes features, while the individual items become tasks. It’s hierarchical. I tend to have a hard time thinking organically. My memory isn’t that good, so if I don’t structure thoughts in such a way, then I tend to forget things (side-note, it helps with re-watching TV shows… I think I’ve seen Avatar: The Last Airbender 9 times, and it’s great every time!).

So, is this effective? Perhaps with some things, but not with everything. My ability to understand is highly dependent on whether I can see the big picture or not. If I can’t grasp the original intent of someone’s work (even my own), then I go in circles within an infinite loop of mental information research, evaluation, and storage. The problem is that you can’t write a story with this type of structure. It’s great for persuasive writing, but when you write a story, you really have to know the characters. You have to remember and truly understand their intentions, goals, and where they appear or disappear before you can decide where you want them to go.

I’ve always been good at writing the beginning of a story. It’s easy because there are no loose threads. You can put your pen on the paper and literally write anything you want, and it becomes canon. When it comes to the middle, I’ve always had trouble. In this case, you are constrained. You can’t write things without first considering whether there was an event that happened earlier that prevents you from taking the story in a certain direction. This is known as continuity. It’s like you’re weaving a continuous web of lies. Almost makes me wonder if all authors are really good liars.

“Oh the tangled web’s we weave…” - Sir Walter Scott

So, I have a few options. Either brainstorm out the entire narrative, and create smaller and smaller blocks of ideas until I have a very detailed outline (which would drive me insane), or just organically write from start to finish–don’t worry about the details, but about the events that happen, and who participates. Then, deal with the continuity later with editing and re-reads. This would lead to the largest amount of re-work, but it would also lead to the quickest way for me to get things on paper, which is really the best way to move forward. I may dislike it, but the latter approach sounds more promising.

Regardless of whether I write something worthwhile or not, the process is what matters. Words mean something to me. They’re my way of expressing myself to the world. It’s why I spend extra time on my self-assessment for work. It’s why I write all those short stories and why I’m working on a few novels. It’s why I write these blog posts. I feel as though I’m connected with the world through what I write.