It’s been a whirlwind couple of weeks, which ultimately ended in me losing my job just seven days ago. That has of course been stressful, as looking for a job is no fun at the best of times, and it’s absolutely terrible at the worse of times. But it has helped put some things in perspective for me and helped me focus in on somethings that are most important, one of which is working.

I’m six or so chapters into book 2 and realized an important epiphany yesterday about outlining. I would traditionally describe myself as a “pantser” (as much as I detest the term), but as I continue to work I see how limiting adhering to a single method simply because it comes naturally to you. Book 1 was an organization nightmare, I can’t even say how many chapters/pages/words I wrote don’t exist in the final draft, because I get physically ill when I just think about it. I would constantly get two or three chapters down a particular line, then realize none of it was working then have to cut out a week’s (or more) worth of work just like that. I learned a ton in the process, but it was painful and slow.

I can’t do that now–nor do I want to (who would?) so I have to be smarter at how I approach writing. I’ve always balked at the idea of outlining as it struck me as a boring way to go about crafting a story, but I’m seeing more and more now that if I want my story to work across books, it’s going to be a necessity. So I printed off an interesting outlining tool my friend Rob sent me and went about jotting down ideas for the first third of book 2 and realized almost immediately some stark errors I’d made in how things were progressing. Honestly, thirty minutes yesterday just saved me potentially hours worth of work. This is a topic I think I want to address more fully later, but for the moment, sufficeth to say that it’s important to branch out into methods of writing you may not be initially comfortable with. It’s how you learn!

I’m in the last few chapters of American Gods by Neil Gaiman and… well, I don’t like it. I know half of your are sharpening your pitch forks at that statement, but honestly, like Stephen King, I just don’t think Gaiman is for me. American Gods is very much a style over substance type of situation, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing–but the style has to be one that appeals to you. In this case, Gaiman’s style simply doesn’t do it for me.

The concept of style vs substance is something that’s been bouncing around my head for a while now. Jay Bauman from RedLetterMedia often talks about (and I’m paraphrasing here) how a movie that’s perhaps not that great but conveys a specific idea/style from its creator is far more worth your time then a generic bland movie that hits all of the points that are often discussed to make “good movies.” It’s an idea I’ve kind of passively agreed with, but I’m starting to understand more and more lately. I’ve been watching Into the Badlands off and on on Netflix for the last year or two, whenever a new season gets uploaded, and if I were to give it a critical review, it’s really not that great. The plot lines are riddled with cliches and coincidences, the acting is atrocious at times, but it’s got a distinct style to it that makes it fun to watch, and as a result, I can far more easily overlook the paltry aspects. That rings true for everything I think–the books that I absolutely despise are the ones that above all else, don’t try anything original, in story, character, or style. I have that problem with the majority of urban fantasy I read, it so often feels like paint by the numbers. Originality isn’t easy, but a little effort goes a long way.

In any case, time to carry on.