Debbie had an interesting post the other day about muse vs analyst. Every writer seems to have a combination of these entities in their minds. Many use the analyst only after the muse has whipped up a first draft. From my experience as an editor, few writers seem to have a muse with a decent share of analytical power.
Don't get offended. It's just a statement of fact. The muse isn't stupid. The muse is imagination, the "get it done" force behind our creativity. It's just not that interested in logic.
Big problem, you think? Well, maybe. Yes. Yes, it's a problem, but don't go smacking your muse in frustration. The muse really is the force behind getting all first drafts done. Just wish it would listen to the analyst a bit more while making our fingers fly over the keyboard.
So what do you do when muse and analyst seem to be divorced from each other? You could do like Debbie during Nano, and give the muse free rein during the initial creative process. Afterward, you can let the analyst in through the back door (don't let it bring divorce papers), and get it started on the clean up.
Or...
Big or.
Very.
Time to shred the divorce papers, get muse and analyst back in sync. They belong together. Yes, they need their own rooms, especially when analyst is nagging and nothing new is getting written, but when the words roll, you'll save a lot of time and effort if analyst is hugging your muse. Muse support. Seriously. Analyst should be hugging your muse.
And here's how. You might hate this, but here is how.
Learn your basics. You want your stories to come out less ridiculously written than usual, without massive plot holes and character irregularities? Get that analyst hugging your muse. You almost want it to be a conjoined twin, but with a really long tether (in case you need to chuck it out the door to let the creative processes start without a bunch of "can't" bull crap).
Basics. What are those?
Grammar, first off. Simply grammar. Word types, punctuation, common rules for how words should be put together. Believe this. If you know your grammar, words whip onto the page better than if you don't. You think they whip on ok now, while you let untold numbers of goofs slip on past? Wrong. You're adding time to the end process of your work. The revision. You think an editor will accept a manuscript that shows major grammar weaknesses? No. They won't.
This I learned from editing: the more grammar goofs, spelling poo poos, basic sentence illogics that show up, the longer it will take to fix a story, the more likely there will be huge plot holes and character silliness. If you can't be logical about grammar and punctuation, chances are you can't be logical about the plot either.
Loads of writers give their muse the field to roam, untethered, unmanaged. Few nourish the analyst. It's the analyst that knows the weeds from the good grass. It's the analyst that should hold the muse's tether (a long one, remember, in case the muse needs to kick the analyst into the barn for a short time, until the word stampede starts).
So yes, you could analyze a story after the muse has written it, but if you feed your analyst and have that analyst hugging the muse, they almost become one entity, and the writing suddenly takes off like you wouldn't believe. The impossible story becomes possible. Muse sees an angle to the writing that never would have been seen beforehand. Why? Because the analyst is the muses's muse. The analyst is almost a weapon in the muse's hands. You get what I'm saying here?
You want power in your writing? Give your muse a nice weapon to smite with. A comfortable weapon that hugs when relaxed. With a long tether. That knows it's stuff, that mind melds with muse until they work as a real team. When you have this, you get one awesome writer.
And hey, I'm not picking on Debbie. She's awesome. She's getting more awesome. Woman has a brilliant muse, and her analyst is getting really huggy. ;-) |
