In a tres cool project called Living Architecture: Holidays in Modern Architecture, philosopher/writer/all-around-interesting-idea-guy Alain de Botton* is renting out five mega-modern houses to Regular Joes and Josephines (RJJs) for really, really cheaps.
Why?
So the RJJs can get over their fear of modern architecture in a pleasurable, experiential way.
Like I said, tres cool.
Me...I'm not afraid of modern architecture; in fact, I'd give anything to live in a modern house made of funky materials with an unusual shape and lots of surprises.
But as a writer, there's something else in this Living Architecture thing for me. Ever since I discovered the project earlier this week (via a link on Twitter by @MustardPepper), I've been obsessing about it. Within minutes of reading the Tweet, I'd clicked through all five houses: three that are already built and booking renters and two that will be completed soon. I'd even discovered my favorite..."The Balancing Barn"...a house that immediately resonated with my head, soul, and writing process.
(Before reading further, please click through to a picture of "The Balancing Barn." Otherwise you're going to be lost and confused for the remainder of this post. Let's avoid this potentially hazardous situation.)
Now...those of you who read this blog regularly know that for the past few years I've been working on my second novel and am (knock on wood) almost finished. I'm in what I call the "final, final rewriting" stage and I've been searching for a way to describe to you (and to myself) how I'm working on the manuscript now.
"The Balancing Barn" gave me the answer.
I'm balancing the story.
Take another look at "The Balancing Barn." See how it is perfectly weighted so that one half sits firmly planted on the ground and the other half reaches out-out-out over the meadow?
Gorgeous, isn't it?
The risk? The equilibrium? The humor? The mystery?
It is this kind of balance that I'm working to create in my novel. (It is also these elements: risk, equilibrium, humor, mystery.) And it's not easy. Although there is only one main character in the story, there are three equally important story lines; two very present, very important secondary characters; a cast of lively supporting characters; and a setting that also plays an active role (just as setting did in my first novel Thirsty).
How am I going about balancing it?
There are two parts to the process:
First, the concrete. From Staples in Shanghai, I ordered a load of Post-It Tabs (you know, the skinny, narrow, bookmarky Post-Its) in all kinds of colors. Next I assigned a color to each important character and to each of the three story lines. Then on a printed copy of the manuscript, I tagged every scene with the appropriate character and/or story line Post-It. Once all tags were in place, I could see when one character hadn't made an appearance in a while or when one of the three story lines got dropped for too long.
Obviously this is a complicated, time-consuming process, but it works for me. Once I knew where the gaps were, I was able to dive back into the manuscript. For the past few weeks, I've been writing new chapters and moving others around.
Second, the abstract. Here's how it happens: Before bed, read a few chapters. Ponder them. Play with them. Then sleep, wake up, lie in bed for a few minutes "seeing" the story in my head. Then walk my daughter to school, work out, do the grocery shopping, take a shower. Later, have a margarita with my husband. Read. Eat dumplings. Dream. And at every moment "see" the story in my head...solving problems that seemed unsolvable while sitting at my desk...and allowing the story to grow beyond what is already on the page (which can be wildly difficult once you actually have a story on the page).
Finally, when it feels right, I return to my computer and dive in.
This stage of the rewriting process requires two things: imagination and precision. I think about how the architects who designed and built "The Balancing Barn" went about their work and like to think it was in much the same way.
Now...time for a margarita.