Advice

Sharing Interesting Things

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(This column is posted at www.StevenSavage.com and Steve’s Tumblr.  Find out more at my newsletter.)

One thing I did this Christmas was to gift some people various games that deserved their attention as they were:

  • Indie games that were original or interesting.
  • Early access games that deserved support – and were usually Indie games as well.
  • Games that broke the mold or redid things in smart ways.

The reasons for this may seem obvious, but to be obvious:

  • I want to support Indie games so that the games industry continues to innovate. There’s fantastic stuff out there.
  • I want to support Early Access so games can evolve with proper feedback. I know what good feedback can do.
  • It’s fun to blow people’s minds, so they think outside of the box and experience new things.

I want to strongly encourage this behavior because there’s enough sameness out there, enough watered-down media. If you’ve got something good, share it – and a gift is a great way to share it. Hey, if nothing else, people feel obligated to try it.

Besides the obvious benefits of sharing and so on, remember this includes giving people cold, hard cash. That dev probably needs every cent spent, and you can pay a few extra cents to help out.

Steven Savage

Always In Touch

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(This column is posted at www.StevenSavage.com and Steve’s Tumblr.  Find out more at my newsletter.)

As noted before, I replotted and restarted some of my sequel to A Bridge To The Quiet Planet. There were many reasons from stress to the fact I’m frankly playing above my game – it’s less romp more messed up magical mystery with twists and turns. But these moments teach us plenty of lessons – and here’s another to share.

Lately, life has been chaotic (this has fortunately calmed). This chaos has meant that some days I haven’t been able to write, or I had to take breaks. As I was working on writing and plotting, I observed something interesting.

While working on the novel, starting on anything – from plotting to writing – would be hard to start. In time, though, I would get into it – and I decided to analyze why. I found that taking time meant I “got into” and connected with the work. It wasn’t just unblocking things or getting up to speed – I re-connected intimately with the work.

I also noticed something else. If I were to do these things day after day, it felt more normal – as long as I didn’t pressure myself. “Write X a day” or “you must do this by Monday” didn’t help. I just needed some form of contact with the work.

Finally, I found that there are times one gets deep into a work, be it writing or plotting, that its best to continue. You get into the zone, which means when you start a creative work, it may be best to have buffer time so you can keep going.

I realized when I looked at some of my best works, I keep in touch with them almost every day during their creations. It may be only a few minutes or taking notes, but it works and keeps me in the zone. It kept me in touch.

So ask yourself how you can “keep in touch” with your work. Not something stressful or burdensome, but something that helps you “feel” your work. Maybe you can do something every day, even if it’s only for a few minutes.

Steven Savage

Plots, Pants, And Flows

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(This column is posted at www.StevenSavage.com and Steve’s Tumblr.  Find out more at my newsletter.)

Writers have heard this over and over again.

Some people are plotters, detailing out their stories before writing.

Some people are pantsers, charging ahead writing with little or no outline.

Some people are “plantsers” walking a line between both.

Though these are convenient ways to classify writers, they’re limited. These classifications are much like the classic and oft-mocked D&D alignment chart – interesting originally, but restrictive in the end. Are any of us one of the above all the time, in all of our writing?

As of late I’d struggled with my latest novel – I tend to more of a “plotter,” but it hadn’t quite worked for me. At the same time, pantsing or “plantsing” didn’t work for me either. I felt disconnected from my work, my writing lacked an intimacy.

This had rarely happened with my nonfiction work. Indeed, it seemed I could step into that work with ease for the most part. This wasn’t surprising, as I’ve done mostly nonfiction the last decade – a second novel being a challenge presented no surprise.

So as I meandered towards a solution, I decided to replot a troublesome chapter. This suddenly awakened my imagination, that intimate connection with one piece of my work to the exclusion of all else. Everything felt alive.

Then, I took a look at authors I knew with both challenges and lacks of challenges. Those who had trouble with their works had lost a connection with it, from not liking it to fearing audience reaction to not caring. Writers with few troubles felt an intimate connection to their work – it could be love of characters or joy in “mechanizing” a story, but it was intimate.

My rewrite of a single chapter felt more intimate. That told me what I’d been missing – I’d let so many things distract me from my work. Replotting a chapter reconnected me.

Looking at my past works I could see when works had been easy, I had a sense of intimacy and connection. I had made books on potentially boring subjects and had been absolutely enjoying it. I write many worldbooks and those involved a well-polished system, and it’s fun.

So let’s stop thinking about pants, plotting, and “plantsing.” Let’s ask what methods keep us connected to our works and intimate with our goals. Maybe one time we plot, maybe one time we “pants,” and another time we do something else.

If you’re not feeling connected to your work, then it’s time to switch up how you do things. Who knows, you might invent an new way to classify writers we can all misuse . . .

Steven Savage