Author: Fallton Havenstonne

For my upcoming novel, research was vital to ensure that I included facts and detail that were accurate. Whether a story is set in modern times or in the past, these minor details can liven up the story, immerse the reader into a world where the people, objects and events feel tangible and real. It also is a great way for the reader to learn tidbits as they read, facts that they wouldn’t have otherwise known so that they feel like they are gaining knowledge as they read.

Depending on the subject matter, research can take a very long time. It’s not just learning about the history or the facts of a field, but understanding it and selecting the key information that will work for the story. Hours can be spent learning about specific details and facts, only for you to realize later that you don’t need to include them, or that you only need to include a fraction of what you’ve read.

I find this often happens when I research different locations for a story (especially my newest novel). I learn about that place’s history, its scenery, its housing and economic landscape, etc., and I might realize afterward that it won’t suit the story. Even if I don’t use that specific location, at least I know of it, and I could use it in a different story or know what makes it different from the location I will use.

For stories in the fantasy and science fiction genres, research can entail studying early civilizations, folklores or facts about anthropology or science. All this information can be combined and weaved together in a story seamlessly–utilized in such a way that is unique and original to tell a new tale or to illustrate a vision of an otherworldly universe. When it comes to world building, it’s a matter of creating everything from scratch, of laying out a foundation of its history, of designing the terrain and landscape, and of creating the societies that exist within that world. In this way, it’s somewhat like building a universe with its own history and where events and key figures cross paths and influence each other in a way that is unique but strangely familiar to us.

Whenever I finish writing a story, it feels like a tremendous weight off my shoulders. I can finally relax, take the week off, and let my mind wander instead of mulling over every detail of each chapter and scene from the story.

But this break tends to be short-lived.

My mind will return to the story as if it misses the challenge and creativity that comes with working on one. It misses the art of piecing together scenes and ideas, of breathing life into characters. In essence, it misses working on a project that involves so much thought, planning, and artistry, that it will soon get bored of the vacation its on.

When enough time passes, we might put the story behind us, but we won’t forget the feeling that comes with finishing it–the sense of accomplishment we had after it was done. Eventually, we’ll have return to that story to edit it, or else, we’ll start working on a new one. In this way, finishing a story is just the beginning of another–waiting to be written.

For some people, this question can have an easy answer: it’s finished when the conflict or final scene has been resolved.

For me, it’s hard to say when a story is finished, since I always have this feeling that I can keep going and carry the story forward even after it’s ended. When I reach the last paragraph of a story, I will ask myself if it should keep going, or if it would be superfluous if I did. But by that point, after writing tens of thousands of words (if it’s a novel), I’m already exhausted, and I’m happy to end it so long as I can take a break. Of course, that ending could change once I started editing the story. I’d say to myself, why did it end here? There’s more to be said, story arcs that need to be wrapped up.

If there is a lingering question of “what if” after I’ve ended a story, or events or scenes that haven’t fully been explained, I will continue to add to the narrative despite where I originally planned on ending it.

And for short stories, I like to end it on a note that I leaves a strong impression or a thought provoking idea for the reader rather than wrap it up as a complete narrative. The structure for a short story is more conducive to that kind of ending, since they can function more as an idea(s) or “food for thought” rather than a story with a clear-cut plot.

There are times when I will revise a sentence or a paragraph numerous times and not feel like it’s done. I can see countless variations that all work just as effectively, but none of which will be final, since I can see yet a few more variations to try.

But after minutes or hours of trying to get that sentence or paragraph right, it can get frustrating and even tiring to try out a multitude of possibilities. It’s as if there is no right answer, just a gray area of possibilities. But I know in the back of my mind that there is one right answer, and if only I kept going, would I find it.

For me, that feeling of finality is reached when I can step away from it and not feel the urge to revise it again. Not all sentences or paragraphs are like that, however. Some just come naturally and effortlessly. But there are others that need so much work and polishing that I’ve reached the point where I’d rather delete them. But deleting them isn’t the answer either, since it leaves a void that needs to be filled.

For me, what helps is to just leave it alone, to come back to it later after a few hours or a few days. And when I do, it’s as if the answer was simple and straightforward, and I didn’t need to edit it to oblivion after all.

When life throws curve balls at us, it can disrupt our writing schedule. When I write, it often happens in spurts–when I feel the call to write. Or when I’m working on a project, such as a novel, do I implement a schedule to finish it all the way through.

Sometimes writing isn’t so much about adding to a draft as it is jotting down ideas. Or it could be planning out the events of a story, or thinking up names for the characters. There are other forms of writing we do that we don’t take much notice of but are stepping stones to a final product.

But sticking with writing is a challenge I’ve faced many a times because of all the disruptions that have occurred either externally or internally. It could be that I have too many things to do, or that I’m not motivated or don’t know what to write about. In place of writing, I will sometimes visualize things, such as scenes for a story, or I will hear the dialogue between the characters as if they are already printed on the page.

Writing is just the last phase of putting those thoughts and visions down onto paper. They first must form in the mind, and once we deem them worthy enough to record, do we write them down.

A story won’t write itself. That’s what I say to myself when I’m not writing when I should, or when I’m too tired to write. It won’t write itself; I need to keep adding to it, to keep the characters alive and to make the story tangible and real on the screen or on paper.

There can be too many obstacles that deter us from writing. It’s easier not to write than it is to write. We can come up with a laundry list of excuses not to write it, or say we’re not in the mood to. But no matter what excuses we come up with, a story isn’t going to write itself. It’ll sit idly in our thoughts, idly in our imagination until we write it.

Once we start writing, at first, it can be difficult and cumbersome. It can feel like trudging through a muddy trail, or navigating through a foggy forest. I’ve had roadblocks where I just didn’t know what to write from one sentence to the next. It was as if the story ran out of gas, or else I ran out of energy to write. But at some point, if we keep writing, the story will inexplicable propel itself into existence, and there isn’t enough energy for us to keep up with it. It’s as if we’re in the driver seat, and the story is leading the way, but as we write, we can’t make excuses to stop. To stop is tantamount to letting the story wither and fade out of existence.