Friday, November 5, 2010

A Path of 10,000 Hours

If you've read Outliers by Malcolm Gladwell, or perhaps his blog, or if you've heard about studies he's researched from another source, you may have come across 'The 10,000-Hour Rule.' As soon as I was introduced to the concept, I was immediately fascinated by the idea.


In summary, Gladwell suggests that a growing number of studies point more to preparation than innate talent when it comes to developing mastery of a skill or aptitude. Though there is apparently a degree of talent required in the first place, once this baseline requisite is reached, the only thing that can be reliably seen to differentiate the merely good from the best is practice. And, the amount of practice has been pegged at around the 10,000 hour mark.


In fact, in one study from the 1990's—conducted by K. Anders Ericsson—Gladwell points to the finding that the existence of prodigies, or 'natural' talents, those who are thought to travel without difficulty through the ranks of their contemporaries to achieve greatness, was unfounded. Ericsson discovered no such individuals who could rise to the top with little effort and, what's more, neither did they find any individuals with that basic level of talent who, despite toiling away in practice of their craft, weren't able to rise into that upper level. The common denominator between all of the really successful people—the unknown 'x- factor' of talent notwithstanding—was work. Very hard and very sustained work.


Now, all of this doesn't mean that I would necessarily be able to become, say, a nuclear physicist if I wanted to. This study, and the others he investigated, Gladwell notes, was conducted with people who all had some initial level of ability. I, for one, very much doubt that a career in nuclear physics is within my grasp, no matter how much I enjoy the humor of CBS's The Big Bang Theory. I have an affinity for geeks, but I'm not apparently gifted to that level of geekdom.


But, aspiring writers, take heart: if you, like me, have heard on many occasions that you're either born a writer or not, the 10,000-hour rule does give some weight to your counter-arguments. I think that, if a person gravitates to writing and has a degree of talent for it to begin with, then there's no reason to think that you can't become a very good, or even great, writer.


This is where it gets difficult. You've probably also heard that you MUST make time to write regularly and purposefully to develop the craft. And, not just any writing will do the trick. I've probably spent almost half of the 10,000 hours writing essays and other functional pieces (or at least it seemed I spent that much time writing them throughout high school and university), but that doesn't cleanly translate into creative writing. It doesn't hurt, I'm sure, other than creating a few—okay, a lot—of bad habits, but I believe, if you want to write creatively, either in fiction or non-fiction, that's what you must practice.


How long, in common language, is 10,000 hours? Well, if you wrote for five hours a day, five days a week, you'd clock your 10,000 hours in 400 days. And, if you convert that into weeks, since you're not writing every day, it would amount to eighty weeks. Take off a few weeks here and there for holidays, illness, and what have you, and you're looking at approximately two full years of full-time writing.


From this perspective, it doesn't appear to me so much that you need to be born to write, but you need to be born with the desire to write, because that's an incredible investment of time; especially since most of us have real, paying jobs that frustratingly want to interfere with our creative writing habits. Or, at least they do if you want to eat and have a place to sleep, not to mention to write.


But, as they say, a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step. And, I suppose then, that a writing foundation of 10,000 hours begins with a single minute. How many have you spent practicing your craft this week?

Monday, September 27, 2010

Do You Outline?

I recently attended a writing conference hosted by Jared Hunt and Crystal Stranaghan of Gumboot Books. The sessions were part of their Live Your Dream program, a collection of highly informative materials that are aimed at helping beginning authors to better develop the varied aspects of their craft, from writing to marketing.

One of the most insightful and helpful topics of the weekend sessions, I found, was one that many writers either seem to openly dread or merely tolerate, with varying degrees of apprehension. Below, you'll find a short sampling of Jared's tried and true advice on using an outline--as a tool--to its fullest potential:

Though I list them as numbered steps, this process is intended to be a cycle rather than a linear path. Feel free to move from one step to the next at any time and accept that you'll be back at the beginning several times before you're done.

Step One: Scenes
For outlining purposes, the basic unit of storytelling is the scene (or event). Whether your original inspiration for writing this story was a character, a place, a conversation, an object or anything else, the seeds will bring to mind certain things that are going to happen. Those “things” are the foundational scenes of your story.


Write a single sentence (or a couple of bullet points) to describe each scene that comes to mind right away. Don't worry about keeping things in order or having them make sense yet. Just get the basic ideas down. Many people like to use index cards (one per scene); I favour an outlining program like OmniOutliner. Use whatever method you're most comfortable with – just make sure it doesn't get in the way of creativity.

Keep adding scenes until you've exhausted that initial inspiration. Next, spend some time arranging the scenes you've generated into logical order. As you're doing this, look for holes in the narrative – places that need to be filled for the story to make sense. Brainstorm interesting ways to fill these holes and choose the best ideas to become new scenes. Some questions I like to ask when brainstorming include:

What is the worst thing that could happen right now?
How could that turn out to be the best thing by the end of the scene or story?
What does this character want?
How can I prevent her from getting it?
How will she overcome that obstacle?

A YA novel will likely have between 40-60 scenes; a picture book should be kept to 5-10. Your goal is to generate at least twice that many so that you can pare down to just the best ones. Remember, 90% of what you do is not your best work.

Step Two: Expanding Your Outline
Once you feel like you've got the basic skeleton of your story, it's time to delve a little deeper. For each scene you've created, go back and ask the following questions:


Who is present?
Where is this taking place?
When does this take place? (within the story as well as historically)
What do the characters want?
What actions do the characters take?
What are the characters thinking?
Why is this happening?
Why is this scene necessary?


This is a good time to start doing some research. Make sure your answers to the above questions are complete and authentic.

Step Three: Story Points
Now it's time to do a little analysis of your scenes. Go back through your expanded outline and note any of the following things:


Decision Points
The difference between a story decision and a mundane one is in the consequences. There must be something at stake. Most story decisions involve one of the following two situations:


1. Irreconcilable Goods
The character wants two (or more) things, but can only choose one of them. This reveals their true character by showing what they want most.

2. Lesser of Two Evils
All of the options presented to the character are bad, but he is forced to choose one. This reveals their true character by showing what they want least.


Turning Points
Like all human beings, characters generally take actions that involve the least possible effort but that they still believe will let them achieve their desires. A turning point is any time that minimal effort results in something unexpected. Turning points force the character to make increasingly greater efforts.

Conflict
There are three primary levels of conflict:


1. Character vs. World. Large, powerful forces external to the character are preventing her from reaching her goals. Examples: nature, war, huge corporations, political systems
2. Character vs. Character. Other characters of similar power and influence are preventing the main character from achieving his goals. Examples: family, spouse, friend, boss, co-worker
3. Character vs. Self. Internal weakness is preventing the character from achieving her goals. Examples: doubt, anger, hatred, insanity


Noting each of the types of story points in a different colour can be a useful tool for step four.

Step Four: Analysis
Go through your outline and observe how many of your scenes don't have a story point noted. Ask yourself why those scenes are in your story. Chances are good that they only exist to provide information to the reader. Do your best to take that vital information and work it into another scene somewhere else.


Your goal should be to have no scenes that exist purely for information.

Conclusion
Done properly, the outlining process takes care of the “heavy lifting” part of writing. When you move from outline to first draft, you'll find you can write quickly and with confidence – no more writers' block for you!


© Jared Hunt 2010
Jared Hunt
Writer, Editor, Teacher
www.jaredhunt.ca
http://liveyourdreamworkshops.com/the-workshops/



Now, if you'll excuse me, I have 5 pages of an 'outline' that I think I need to revisit...

Yours in Truth,

Derek Donais

Friday, August 27, 2010

Forward to the Past ... Another School Year Begins

Here's just a little something for you to ponder as you put little Oliver Jr. or Olivia on the bus for his or her first day back at the books:


Schools, along with prisons, insane asylums and hospitals were an 18th century invention. The school, as it was originally established, was not in the least concerned with making sure an individual learner's needs were met. Like its sister institutions, the first schools were a place of rigid control and management. They were inflexible, impersonal and, according to their designers, infallible. They were a far cry from today's educational settings.


I recently heard a colleague suggest that we should get back to the original intent of schools; we need to focus more on individual learning instead of teaching to 'the middle,' or average student while ignoring the higher and lower ends of the classroom's human spectrum. I don't know exactly how the belief arose that schools were originally anything other than places of imposed, coerced discipline.


Essentially, schools were meant to get the urchins, hereafter referred to in the singular as 'Oliver,' off of the street and into a place where they could be hammered into shape as useful members of society. Back then, this meant that Oliver was to sit in his assigned seat at the assigned times and do his assigned work. If he didn't excel at his learning, he was to be a laborer or other menial worker. And, if he refused to learn or had other issues, he would make his way into the asylum or prison. In any event, poor little Oliver wouldn't be harassing people on the streets or cleaning out their apartments while they were away at work in another burgeoning institution: the factory.


Yes, the school was then a place to keep Oliver, a child of factory workers, out of trouble while at the same time teaching him whatever discipline and knowledge was needed to take his parents' places or the places of others more suitable to his educational successes—or, lack thereof. The school was another industrial-era institution that grew from the social reorganization of the state and the primary means of wealth production. Emerging nations needed to devise the infrastructural components to gather, contain and control segments of the population that didn't fit directly into the new scheme of things. The school was one such place.


What's my point? Well, the colleague I mentioned earlier made the comment in regards to improving student learning. Unfortunately, all of the would-be revolutions and innovations in contemporary education are rendered moot because of the very nature of the school itself. Until this basic unit of the system is fundamentally changed, there will be no widespread, lasting improvement in how we teach and how children learn. As long as we group students chronologically, arrange the timeline into semesters or years and artificially segment the school day, make all children learn the same things regardless of their interests and aptitudes and, finally, use standardized testing to measure their progress, the results will never change. Nor will the fate of poor little Oliver's great-great-great-great grandchildren—give or take a generation or two.

Tuesday, August 17, 2010

What's in a name?


                Have you ever noticed how some of the names in our pop culture seem to be repeatedly used as stereotypes? Take my name, for instance: Derek. In most TV and movie releases, Derek is a jerk. He's egotistic, opportunistic, clueless, or worse. I point to movies like Zoolander, Monsters vs. Aliens, Ski School and American History X as just a few examples. At least I can take some satisfaction from the fact that Derek usually either stands out as an individual in some way, or is the leader of a group. Other than that, he very seldom has any redeeming qualities.

                Now, take the name John. I can think of many offhand: John Connor, John McLane, John Rambo, John Quincy Archibald, and so on. John is often the hero, possessed of at least a few great character traits, although there can also be some tragic flaws as well. John can often be an anti-hero--John Rambo, John Q.--who struggles against the evils of the status-quo.

                Both names can have offshoots: Derek is often replaced by Dirk, and sometimes by Drake or Duke, while John has even more stand-ins: Jason, Jack, Jeff, and many others. It's very curious to me that Hollywood, in the heart of the free-market capital of the world, seems to turn the ideal of individualism on its head in its use of these names. The name John is often used in the generic sense, as when a body has yet to be identified, it's a John Doe. So, in effect, what Hollywood is doing is allowing the average Joe—another replacement for John—to put himself in the place of the hero: you, too, can stand up to injustice and seek revenge for wrongdoings! Thus, John is the quintessential 'everyman.'

                Now, so far the practice doesn't seem to un-American, but then look at Derek. As we've established, Derek is either the irritating, insufferable individual or the leader of the pack. That's a very admirable quality, from an individualistic point of view. But then, he's vilified, or at the very least, ridiculed for this role. He's nasty, self-absorbed or even destructively violent, in extreme cases.

                John and his many offshoots are a collective; Derek, as leader or lone wolf, is the individual. Considering the generally hostile American attitude toward things communal and its embrace of individual freedoms, the usage of these names is a curiosity to me. But, perhaps I'm just seeing schemes where there are none.

                Then again, the heroes in my novels have both been 'J' names: Jaren and Jaxan. Maybe there's something to this tendency, after all.

Monday, June 14, 2010

Throwing Stones

It's been a while. This entry is not about my book, though I do have some news on that front. I just wanted to put my two-cents-worth into the disussion about the BP Deepwater Horizon fiasco.
Like most, if not all of you who may read this post, I'm disgusted by the environmental damage and monumental waste that this situation has caused. I'm not, however, going to roast BP and their questionable practices--that's being done to death, although I have linked this entry to an interesting news article that puts into clearer light some of the company's less-than-conscionable decisionmaking: http://news.ca.msn.com/money/article.aspx?cp-documentid=24572284

Why do things like this happen? Greed? The corporate mindset? The answer is very likely yes, but the blame cannot be put entirely on the shoulders of the officers of BP. Who gives them their jobs? Who ultimately pays their salaries and ensures that they have a market for their product? We do.

People constantly search for the best deal and newest gadgets. More 'stuff.' We like to think that we're becoming more environmentally sound in our consumerism, but are we? We recently bought a fuel-efficient car, but we also drive a minivan. My wife and I both commute between one and two hours to work most days. We are still dependent on non-renewable resources and we buy the lowest-grade gasoline from the pumps.

All of these decisions act in concert, putting pressure on companies to make the least expensive product in the most expedient way possible. This means that all of us share some of the blame for the BP tragedy and all other disasters that are brought about by companies attempting to cut costs and maximize profits. The people making the decisions are there because they are the best at doing it. If we don't buy the product because it's too expensive, the company loses money. The shareholders get upset and company stocks fall in value. New leadership is brought in to maximize efficiency and profits. We are all culpable. Our choices keep the oil and gas industry--as well as others with equal potential for negative environmental impact--viable and put in place those who want to find ways to make the most money meeting our 'needs.'

So, before we cast too many stones at the BP executives responsible for cutting corners and neglecting safety measures in favor of greater speed and more money, we must remember how such people become established as company executives in the first place. We enable them.
Is your throwing arm warmed up yet?

Monday, February 22, 2010

Nice guys finish ... well, not first, anyway

I'm as disappointed as the next Canadian about our Olympic team's recent performance. But I'm more disappointed in the comments and attitudes of Canadians who've been quoted criticizing our athletes. "Unfocused," or, "lacking commitment," seem to be among the most common complaints.

I think that's not only too simplistic an explanation, it's also completely disrespectful of our Olympic competitors, who've spent the last four years—or a lifetime—preparing for this chance to shine. "We need to spend more money," is another suggestion. I've heard that grants and allowances for athletes are often inadequate, but again, this alone cannot be the sole explanation.

Some of you may disagree with me, but I think the problem runs deeper than a lack of dedication or funding. I believe something bigger underlies the issue. When you look at the Olympics—and the winter Olympics especially—you see mostly individual sports. Granted, there are team events with smaller or larger groups depending on the sport, but for the most part, it's an area of individual performance. There's nothing wrong with celebrating individuality, so please don't think that I'm against it. However, there is something in that individual essence of the games that goes against the 'Canadian grain' at a fundamental level.

Take our neighbours to the south, who always seem to come away with the lion's share of hardware at any games. Look at the phrase that is associated with the founding ideals of that nation: Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness. It sounds like a statement very compatible with individual competition and achievement. Now, here is Canada's founding vision: Peace, Order and Good Government. Does that sound a little less individualistic, and more cooperation-friendly? Of course it does.

Now, those who disagreed with me earlier might still suggest that this has nothing to do with the Olympics and that they are just words written on outdated relics of history. I don't think so. These two excerpts speak to the very heart of our nations and to the things we hold most dear. How can they not affect who we are and what we've become?

When people think of the United States—whatever they may dislike—they envision the competitive nature and outspoken attitude that the majority of its citizens exhibit. Many Americans are unapologetic about that and when it comes to the Olympics, and competition in general, I believe that's a real advantage for them. What characteristics do most people associate with Canadians? Peacemaking, manners, and a tendency to collective thinking, to name but a few. (I also think there's a connection between this 'team oriented' thinking and our status as a hockey power, but that's an issue for another blog). These traits are nothing to be ashamed of and as a Canadian, I'm proud that people think this way about us. However, can we have it both ways? Can we be a nation of people who, at their core, believe in cooperation, unity, and acceptance of all, while at the same time striving to be among the leaders in feats of individualism, competition and personal achievement?

I believe, that for a nation our size, Canada does just fine. And we are respected as we go about our business, whether that's speaking on international rights or competing in the Olympic Winter Games. Why would we need to own a simple podium when we own the rights to such a highly esteemed and honourable nation?

Tuesday, January 26, 2010

Eli and Tiger and Heirs - Oh, My!

Okay, you’re probably wondering what sort of wizardry (pun intended) I plan to use in explaining my heading. Because I normally use this blog to write about some aspect of writing, there is a literary—or at least artistic—connection: the cinema.


I’ll begin with Tiger. Doubtless, he’s much less a respected public figure than he was several months ago. Deservedly so. How much time and energy do we put into the near-worship of sports, entertainment, or other public icons? Too much. But, that’s not precisely the link. Even so, it helps to develop my argument, so I’ll run with it. How many television shows, blogs, internet stories, and other, name-that-media sources deal with these individuals? I haven’t done a survey or sampling, but, I’m willing to bet it’s more than we would care to admit. We seem obsessed with the lifestyles and behaviors of these celebrities – hence the seemingly endless supply of programming dedicated to following them.


Now, raise your hands, all of you, who’ve become disaffected with golf because of Tiger’s personal failures. Yes, I thought so. No one. And how many of us have forgiven Robert Downey Jr. his transgressions of the past? There, my friends, is my point. We place movie stars, athletes, and performers of all types up on a pedestal, but we realize in the end that they are people, all the same. They make mistakes, and some more than others. For whatever reason, though, we are drawn to them. We don’t stop going to movies because of a favorite star’s substance abuse any more than we stop going to ball games because a superstar admitted to the use of banned substances. Granted, we may shun that specific individual, but we don’t throw the entire realm of their practice in along with them.

Okay, so how does Eli fit in? Well, I am referring to The Book of Eli, if you were wondering about that. Still, what’s my point? It’s this: I was hit by several of Denzel’s lines about two-thirds through the movie. I can’t quote them verbatim, but I can paraphrase. Denzel's character stated that no one knew what was truly valuable until everything was taken away. Then, people killed each other for things they used to readily discard. While these words resonated enough as it was, he went on, and I found the next statement the most telling. Eli related that, after the cataclysm ended our civilization, people blamed religion for the destruction of the world. They sought out and burned whatever bibles, and other religious texts, I assume, that they could find because they sought to eliminate what they saw as the cause of humankind’s downfall.


Perhaps you’re starting to put together my argument, or maybe I’m still not doing a good enough job at explaining my thought process. Well, I’ll sum everything up with my reference to ‘heirs.’ We are the heirs of our society. We will inherit what is established, maintained, and ultimately valued in our culture. Do we continue to put so much of our time, treasure and talent into the fruitless pursuit of these human icons? Or, do we begin to realize what is really important while we still have time? And, more importantly, should we stand by while a vocal minority denounce any and all organized religion because of the sins of individuals? Whether we speak of the missteps of televangelists, Catholic clergy or Muslims, they are people. It is human nature to make mistakes, to sin . To stray from the path. They may begin to follow human interests rather than their spiritual tenets, unwittingly or not.



Religion, then, is not the cause of the world’s problems, though I hear this more and more often. Putting our faith in mere individuals rather, is the trap, be they secular or spiritual leaders. Believing blindly in literal interpretations leads us away from the intrinsic spirit of any religious text, Christian or other. Surely, if we can separate celebrities and their individual flaws from our interest in and commitment to their activities, we can do the same when it comes to a subject that’s of such crucial importance.


In the end, though, I'm not about to tell you what you should or shouldn't believe in. The choice is up to you. For me, that cornerstone is faith. I choose to stand for a certain someone rather than fall for anyone.