And there were two

Shifted through the idea hopper of possible projects tabled while working on the novel and surprised myself. The first unexpected realization: the sheer number of text files loaded with ideas, which I welcomed. The wrinkle was the second surprise. Recording the ideas in a collection of separate files had understated the true count. Initially believed total landed near the dozen mark; it was eighteen.

To organize them, I copied one sentence blurbs about each into a spreadsheet, then sorted the ideas by format. Or what I thought would be its logical format, that was. In other words, based on the situation which approach–novel, screenplay, or short story–would make the most effective backdrop to develop the story arc. At least based on what I think I know about the story so far, anyway. This also takes into account a self-assessment of my skills. Perhaps a project could work as a short story or a screenplay, but in my hands, I only see a screenplay. Another writer could forecast the opposite, or maybe both.

With an idea of what type of an investment each idea implied–novels take a lot longer than screenplay or short stories–I ranked them based on my interest level. That eliminated half the contenders. Five others were set aside because although the drive might exist, I had trouble visualizing a story based on the situation synopsis. Cast two more to the curb because their subjects demanded a serious time investment, more so than I wanted to make at this point.

Which left two strong candidates.

It was a tough call. One project I began last year during a lull, and only because I wanted to, but stopped after thirty-five pages. Yet the situation was in the pocket. Still is. Something about it got me interested last January, and I could be very interested again. Another case for that project was that I dislike collecting undone manuscripts. I’m too old for sure-I’ll-get-back-to-that-one-someday rationalization. Better to finish following a vision and fail, than to never let it breathe. And even reaching for the wrong idea might just reveal insight necessary to execute on the right one.

Yet the last idea definitely tugged the strings of imagination. Most intriguing about the last contender to me was that I could see the idea working in all three formats, and that I could develop the idea regardless of the chosen form. A few scenes played in my mind, which I also interpreted as an encouraging sign, since it typically happens when I’m knee deep in a manuscript, and not before I commit to paper.

But in the end, I elected to do both. For the time being, I’ll run with the new idea one week, then visit the unfinished one for another. If I can’t make up my mind by Christmas Break, I’ll continue working on both, alternating projects by weeks. Still, I bet one idea wins out.

The challenge will be letting the process happen until it does.

2 thoughts on “And there were two

  • November 26, 2006 at 4:03 am
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    I expect most writers, when they get to a certain level, have the problem of too many ideas and not enough time.

    I admire your logical approach, and wish I had followed it. However, as I still have over a year’s (probably 2 or 3) worth of work on revising half-written novels, I just consign my ideas to the mental garbage bin. If any of them are worthwhile, I hope they’ll have composted nicely by the time I get to look at them again.

    I think if I wrote them down, the temptation to start work on them at once would be too great.

  • November 26, 2006 at 9:37 am
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    Thanks for the compliments, Debra.

    It’s funny you mention temptation, because I stumbled upon this approach because after a few years into a novel, I got very sick of working the same story over day in and day out. Yet I could not set it aside very long for fear of never finishing. At the same time, other ideas seemed a thousand times more interesting. Grass is always greener on the other side of the fence thoughts, I guess. Eventually I gave into the diversions and wrote a few short stories, which provided enough distance to remind me why I started down the novel road in the first place. Luckily it did not derail the final product, but if I kept on working on an open ended time-frame like that without a plan, it just might have.

    So began the idea hopper.

    In between there and here, I granted myself permission to walk away from all unfinished manuscripts except one. And I made the exception for selfish reasons. Because I think this one might be the sort of genesis project that while its appeal is narrow, and the theme intensely personal, stepping through the emotions could improve my writing. Ultimately, it’s just for me, and I’m OK with that kind of self-absorbed thinking in this instance. Every writer deserves at least one project that is solely theirs, start to finish.

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