=Bill Adams=: It writes itself--nothing to do with me. I never read
stories--or very, very, very rarely. Most stories, though not quite so
poisonous as my own, are indigestible. Never have the slightest idea
what the end, and rarely what the next paragraph will be. Revise a great
deal afterward, in small ways.
=Samuel Hopkins Adams=: As a rule the story is pretty well worked out in
advance; always in the case of a novel. It does happen, however, that a
character upon which a story is built will take the bit in his or her
teeth and run away with the whole show--even to the extent of ditching
it! I have had a short story turn out disconcertingly different from my
original intention because one of the characters got out of control.
After I write passages, particularly bits of dialogue before going at
the story as a whole, I always revise and rewrite; sometimes I wholly
recast a story.
=Paul L. Anderson=: A story is mapped out in advance, often to the very
language, the actual words to be put down on paper. Revision is chiefly
a matter of improving the wording, though it sometimes takes the form of
shifting the action around; sometimes even of rebuilding the whole yarn,
from start to finish.
=William Ashley Anderson=: No, I don't deliberately map out a story;
though, generally, the theme of the story is in mind when I start, and
the chief problem is to hit on the best point of departure. The ending
is not clearly in mind when I start, though I am inclined to think that,
as a rule, this is a distinct defect, because without an ending clearly
in mind a story must start off without limits and the author can have no
measure by which to judge the value of his characters. This applies
particularly to the short story. In longer stories the characters must
develop logically; and there should be no limits whatever for a novel.
My usual method is to write a story as the ideas present themselves or
the characters move in their relation to the general theme. Then I
rewrite, pruning freely. After that I often rewrite again.
On the other hand I have written very clear, sharp stories at one
writing; and very vague stories after several rewritings.
But I firmly believe that no story is so good that it won't be improved
by a second writing; and there are innumerable evidences in literature
to sustain this.
Often a story changes while I am writing it. Starting with a vague idea,
a strong idea may suddenly obtrude itself. Many times the "kick" in a
story has come into mind when the story was already half done.
Thackeray noted the fact that when a man starts to set his ideas on
paper he is surprised at how much more he knows than he thought he knew.
This, I think, is characteristic of an experienced writer, while the
opposite holds true of a novice.
=H. C. Bailey=: I always plan the whole thing before I begin to write,
in considerable detail; every chapter of a book, every phase of a short
story and often the key phrases of dialogue and narrative are in my
private synopsis. But I hardly ever find that it all goes according to
plan. Characters won't do as they are told. They turn out to be
different from what I had imagined. Minor people become important. And
so the characters work out their plots sometimes in ways of their own. I
always work straight on from beginning to end. Once the manuscript is
finished I only revise details, but the writing itself is a process of
revision and rewriting page by page and line by line.
=Edwin Balmer=: Sometimes I map out the whole story in advance and I
usually try to, but I think the best stories are those where I have
merely started with a general idea and with a fairly definite conception
of the outcome and then have followed the "hunches" which seemed of
themselves to work through the story. I usually write straightaway as a
whole until about two-thirds through a short story, when I fully revise
at least once and then write to the end.
=Ralph Henry Barbour=: I do not "map out" a story in advance. I might
fare better if I did so. I don't know, and I probably never shall know
since it is something I am apparently incapable of doing. My start is
made with a situation or with certain characters. Sometimes with even
less. Whatever the start is, the characters at once take matters into
their own hands, and while I may sometimes use a feebly restraining rein
they generally end by taking the bits into their teeth. The end is
clearly in my mind when I begin. That is, to return to metaphor, the
goal is known to me. What isn't known is the road that is to lead to the
goal, nor what is to happen on the way. Infrequently I find that I have
arrived at a destination other than the one toward which I started. But
that occurs only infrequently for the reason that, given my characters,
I can usually tell how they are going to behave; or, rather, where,
having behaved--or misbehaved--they are going to fetch up. From this it
may be gathered that I let the story tell itself to a great extent. I do
not write a story in pieces, but take it as it comes. I revise very
little. Almost not at all. Perhaps my stuff would be better if I revised
more. But I don't like revising. Something is going to be lost when that
is begun. It is better, I think, to revise before you write.
=Frederick Orin Bartlett=: I never map out anything. For me nothing is
more dangerous. My story as a whole is clearly in mind, but the details
work themselves out as I write. That is true of my ending; I must know,
of course, in a general way where I am going or I have no story, but
that is as far as I commit myself except very rarely when the last
sentence bobs into my head all made. Even then I may not know the
preceding sentence or paragraph.
=Nalbro Bartley=: I write a story straightaway as a whole--the ending
clearly in mind when I start. I always have it mapped in advance--and
then, having started, I let the characters take the action in their own
hands while I keep the characters in mine. It is like building a house
with a plan--so many rooms, porches, etc.,--and letting the people who
are to live in it furnish it as they please and live their own life as a
family unit.
=Ferdinand Berthoud=: I map the story out wholly in my mind--practically
see it finished as an artist sees a picture--before I begin to write.
However, one or other of my characters is often likely to say some fool
thing I hadn't previously thought of and slightly to change the trend of
the yarn.
In writing I do the first two or three thousand words, then go for a
long walk next morning and think up the exact wording of the next slab
of misery. All I have to do then is practically to copy the stuff down.
Yes, I have the ending and the exact last words before I do a thing. Am
ashamed to say I revise very little. Always keep my finished typed copy
just two or three pages behind the original draft.
=H. H. Birney, Jr.=: Story is _loosely_ mapped out in advance and
written straight through--frequently at a single sitting. I do very
little revision--little compared to what I understand some authors do.
At times I will type a copy, single-space and carelessly, from my
original pen and ink draft, do some revision as I proceed, and then
prepare my final, double-spaced copy from this.
=Farnham Bishop=: Many of my stories start with things, rather than
human beings: out-of-the-way ships, guns, primitive locomotives, what
not. But as Kipling points out:
"Things never yet created things,
Once, on a time, there was a man."
Therefore I must create the man who creates or uses the thing. Also his
opponent or opponents, and the other people who more or less "go with
the situation." Try to humanize every one of them, even if he only walks
on to speak a line or carry a spear.
My usual written outline is a neatly typed list of all names of people,
ships and places. Make this before I begin writing the story, to avoid
being held up later. Spend a great deal of time trying to pick effective
names. Finding the right one helps me visualize the character. Pick them
out of the phone book, old histories, etc.
Almost invariably have the ending in mind before I begin. In fact, often
begin by setting aside a strong ending and then work up to it. Brodeur
and I wrote our first story about the fall of Knossos. All we did was to
fake up a plausible explanation of why the durned place fell. As for
revision, I write the whole yarn, read it, pencil it full of
corrections, and then type a fair copy with carbon, revising it again in
the process.
=Algernon Blackwood=: An emotion produces its own setting, usually
bringing with it a character who shall interpret it. The emotion
dramatizes itself. The end alone is clearly in my mind. I never begin to
write until this is so. Then I write fragments, scenes, fragments of the
psychology, fitting them in later. Occasionally, however, when the
emotion is strong, the story writes itself straightaway. Revision is
endless. Often the story, when finished, is put aside and forgotten. The
revision that comes weeks later, on reading over the tale as though it
had been written by some one else, is the most helpful of all.
=Max Bonter=: Formerly I used to sit down and begin writing at random,
letting the story tell itself as I wrote. I have at last decided that it
is a most pernicious practise. If, when I begin writing, I haven't a
fairly clear idea of what I am going to write, how can I bestow on each
phase or angle of my subject an appropriate measure of importance? How
can I obey the law of proportion?
The result of such procedure was nearly always a lopsided story. As a
theme gradually developed under my hand and neared its objective, I
discovered that the text was full of clots and excrescences that had no
part in the climax and had to be cut out. My straightaway rush therefore
availed me little, because it was succeeded by hash, slash and revision.
It was too much like stumbling into a story.
Mathematics being the foundation of everything, including chemistry,
which is Life, and correspondingly of creativeness, which is a phase of
life, should, it seems to me, enter directly into the building of a
story. It is a vast field for an untechnical brain like mine to browse
in, but I hope to get something out of it before I quit. In the meantime
I am striving to organize a simple but effective scheme of work,
somewhat as follows:
1. Be sure an idea is worth developing, from a "human interest"
standpoint.