Is writing a book like building a house?

When I was working on my house, I added about 1100sq. ft., about five years ago. The first parts of the project were fairly easy in terms of planning. First a contractor came in and set the foundation, then I put in the floor joists and sub-floor of the first story, rolling straight into wall framing and sheeting. After that, I took the roof off the existing structure, and put in the floor joists and sub-floor for the second story. Once that was all in place, once again, I was framing and sheeting the walls, which was followed quickly by installation of roof trusses and roof sheathing, which led immediately to shingles. Having all that done, the real work began and the strategy started to become more about preference. Living in Alaska, I opted to focus on insulation, windows followed by interior framing, and then wiring. Normally, this would have occurred in a slightly different order, but if I wanted to continue working that was how it needed to be. Now, once I got that sorted, it was really a matter of preference.

It seems to me that this is where I’m at with my story. I’ve got a few chapters near the end to move from outline to draft, the first major revision, and polish, to the subplot, and of course I still need to go through again and really get that main character nailed down. He needs to be strong and charismatic, and he’s not there yet. I feel like where I’m at in my story is analogous to the point at which I walked into my newly dry house, and looked some 28 feet up the empty stairwell into the trusses of a hollow shell of a yet-to-be dwelling. It hit me like a physical pain back then. I have so much work to do, was my thought. I’d just spent every free moment of my summer getting it to that point and it wasn’t even half-way. I was right, the struggle went on for another 18 months. I tried to tackle things in a certain order to make life easier when I got to the next part. I’d like to approach my story in the same way. My intuition is telling me to just get the whole damn thing written, and worry about the details later, but another part of me says, don’t waste your time on the end because you don’t know all of the details that got him there yet. I suppose in the example of building a house, revision really isn’t on the table. With a book it’s just the nature of things. So, with all of that rubber-ducking and reminiscing out of the way. I’m going to commit myself to drafting out the last few chapters, leave the sub-plot revision until the end, and see if the end of the story doesn’t help me get a better sense of my main character. Is this a good strategy? No idea, never done this before. Anyhow, no I’m off for a run before the night gets away from me.

Chapter 3 reconsidered

Last night I spent several hours thinking about my chapter 3 re-write, while trying to avoid being drawn into the gossip and scandal of Downtown Abbey. I also spent a bit of time rubber-ducking it with my wife, again pausing to listen to various witty comments delivered by the dowager duchess. Distractions aside, the conclusion I reached is, in fact, I could simply add a few sentences here and there to modify the situation to be more plausible. It may be that I said I was going to avoid going into a lot of detail on my story, and I’m going to stick with that, but I’m going to describe this situation and how I approached it, partly to help me solidify how I feel about this solution.

At the end of chapter 2 my main character is captured by the bad guy and some henchmen. Chapter 3 sets out with the main character tied up, apparently in the middle of an open field with no guard set. The plausibility problem here is that the main character’s back story involves him being a soldier. It’s simply not realistic, actually too convenient for him to be left in the middle of a field and unattended. He could just crawl off and free himself. If they were indeed real people, the captors would certainly have spotted this problem, and solved it for me. A more plausible situation would have involved the main character being tied up, and set inside a disused building and set under guard. This would work, because the setting is an old farm with many dilapidated buildings. However, the original, and necessary, plan of escape for the main character was to be freed by a man who he had visited earlier that day. That bit can’t really change without dramatic modifications to the story, which would work, but I think its unnecessary. If the main character were, indeed, locked in a building it’ll be a lot harder to be freed by this man. Virtually impossible actually.

I began writing the revision with the disused building in mind, but it was hard, and not working and I was struggling to imagine how the main character might be freed under the circumstances. Believable, yes, workable, not so much. This is where the rubber ducking came into play. In taking apart the plausibility, I realized that the main character just needs to be tied to something. The farm would have a broken wagon, even operational farms are likely to have this sort of thing lying about. I expect they might even feel they could keep a better eye on him this way. The next bit is to set a guard. If I stick with the concept that the men who captured him are arrogant and confident, this would be a token effort. My solution is to add a guard, who has fallen asleep. Then, the other men, who had not yet turned in for the evening, would simply ignore this lapse. The main character wouldn’t be going anywhere. Then, later, this situation actually connects better with a bit of action where the leader takes retribution for the lapse. So, no-rewrite necessary, just a heavy revision. All that really needed to happen was to flesh out the details better. The story will run just fine with these details inserted. It’s still a little tenuous on the plausibility, but passable.

Fantasy book research #2

The question of this research topic is: How far can a person walk in a day? The answer is always: it depends. Once again, this is the least helpful response for someone who just needs to know what’s a reasonable distance for a human being to travel. Now, this is a topic I researched some time ago, and is buried in my notes. Also, I’ve tacked in my own opinion on the matter by applying my various, albeit limited, hiking and hunting experiences.

Easy terrain – a road, or well worn trail, with gradual slopes or short stretches of steeper terrain. This would include game trails. A fit person over relatively easy terrain can travel about 30 miles in an 8-10 hour day. If well trained, and pushing it, a person could plausibly go 40-50 miles. Keep in mind that over the course of 10 hours, stops have to be made for food and bodily functions.

Moderately difficult terrain –  This would include some steep terrain in open forest with limited trails. Imagine a forest with lots of big mature trees, few thickets, some windfall trees mostly knee-deep grasses, bracken and similar foliage. A few creek fords might be thrown in there. My experience is that you could probably cover about 20 miles, pushing 30 in a full day. The terrain isn’t really that difficult, and the slow-down comes largely from navigating around obstacles, and being a little more careful with footing.

Hard terrain – This is where you have lots of steep bits, dense thickets of willow and alder (or similar depending on your climate). I’d say something like 10 miles per day would be reasonable. Part of this comes with elevation, you tire much faster when you climb, so you have to stop and rest more often. You may still cover a lot of ground, but you won’t make much actual distance across the landscape.

Painful terrain – Knee-deep (or deeper) fresh snow on reasonably flat ground, I bet you could make 10 miles, but it would hurt, and you couldn’t keep up the pace for long. On hard-packed snow, you might be able to make it closer to 20 or even 30 miles. The thing about walking through snow, even with snowshoes, is that it’s like walking with thirty pound weights on each leg.

Don’t ever do this terrain – Deep snow up the side of a mountain – A very fit person is going to make 600feet in an hour without having a heart attack. There will be a lot of switch backs, and slipping around on uncertain footing. In this case, it really does depend on how steep the mountain is. Bottom line is that over the course of a day you could make it up and over two or three 600 or 800 foot ridges, and the actual distance covered is going to be on the order of 3-5 miles or a lot less.

I’m not going to promise these are the best estimates ever, but this is generally what I think is reasonable for a fantasy book adventurer beating his or her way across some exotic landscape.