Jeg fikk et nyhetsbrev i dag med en ålreit artikkel som kanskje viser hvorfor mine råd om skriving har fått en blandet mottagelse. Den er skrevet av Melanie Anne Phillips som er en av de to som utviklet Dramatica teorien. Se www.dramatica.com og www.storymind.com
Writing Tip: Pond Writers ~vs~ Row Writers
By: Melanie Anne Phillips
There are many ways in which to divide writers into different types. For example, structural writers vs. Muse-driven writers, narrative writers vs. first-person writers, character-oriented writers vs. plot-oriented writers.
I cover all of these and more in my seminar, but one of my favorite divisions of writers is the subject of this month’s writing tip: Pond People vs. Row People.
I usually start by asking my students, rhetorically, “Do you prefer your ducks in a row or in a pond?” I wait for a few beats while the class silently considers that I must have gone mad. And then I test their mettle by launching into the following explanation….
Row Writers prefer to deal with the elements of their stories as discrete units or building blocks, each fixed in place, each with a specific purpose and function in the drama.
Pond Writers stand back and take in the story as a whole, letting the ebb and flow of dramatic dynamics wash over them.
Row Writers and Pond Writers approach the story development process differently. So if you have found writing to be difficult or unpleasant, you might have learned to employ techniques that just aren’t appropriate to your natural writerly approach.
Row Techniques:
At first blush, Row Writers might seem to be structuralists since they focus on the components of the story. But structural writers focus first and foremost on the raw mechanics of the drama, and only when that phase is complete do they begin to put flesh on that skeleton, and finally attire those fleshed-out story elements in whatever storytelling clothes suit them.
In contrast, Row Writers will often simultaneously work with pieces of structure, specific wording phrases they’d like to use in dialog, a bit of action, a plot twist, or a thematic message about human nature or regarding some aspect of the popular culture. It is how they handle this data that sets them aside as Row Writers.
Row Writers will create categories, tables, charts, graphs, data links, lists and procedures. They will determine the steps necessary to complete specific projects in their stories, much as a contractor would assign work to sub-contractors.
With precision, the Row Writer tracks their progress, sets schedules and deadlines, and probably has a very orderly desk. (It should be noted that some Row Writers keep messy desks or rooms to add an element of chaos into their organized world in order to help inject an element of serendipity in their work.)
Row Writers tend to write stories that have very distinctive patterns when all components have been woven together. The linearity and purpose of every word, every scene, every action, every musing can clearly be defined.
Such stories are quite riveting, keep the reader or audience on the edge of its seat, and involve him, her, or them in a proactive effort to identify and understand not only the pieces of the puzzle, but the picture that is emerging as the pieces are put together.
While structural writers tend to be dry in their narrative and storytelling (i.e. James A. Michner or Tom Clancy), Row Writers are often extremely passionate in their expression of the story, even though it may be equally well organized (i.e. J.K. Rowlings).
But wait…. What of the Pond Writers – those freewheeling purveyors of nebulous story experiences?
Pond Writers are not only disorganized, but in fact they loathe organization. It gets in the way of their creativity. It is the interplay of the various elements and forces of the drama that gets their hearts pumping and their juices flowing.
If they were to categorize and separate the components of their stories, not only would they lose the spark and surprise of the new ideas generated by one chunk of story running into another, but they would completely lose any sense of the flow of energies on which those story elements bob, swarm, and twirl.
It might be erroneously assumed that Pond Writers are necessarily more passionate in their means of expression, but that is not the case. Virginia Woof, for example can be exceedingly dry, and yet one would be hard pressed to see a clear pattern in many of her stories. It isn’t the passion that defines a Pond Writer; it is the dynamics.
Pond Writers often approach stories with no idea where they are headed, at least in a linear sense. But, they usually gather a plethora of contributing materials, such as a wall full of magazine articles and pictures, each of which has some quality or attribute that may make its way into the story or influence the manner in which it is constructed.
Pond Writers enjoy being put in the mood to write. They will see a trip down to the ice cream parlor a valuable use of time, for it may set them up for that fun and frivolous section they want to write next.
You’ll often find a Pond Writer dressing in costumes to write, or possibly spending an inordinate amount of time choosing their clothes for that particular day because of the kind of material they wish to write in that session.
A Pond Writer may play music in the background to get in a particular mood, may require different kinds of food (without even recognizing the fact) in order to write in certain styles or on specific topics. Some may do better with the television on (perhaps CNN in the background) or sitting in a coffee shop with all the bustle around them.
David Milch (creator of “Deadwood” and “NYPD Blue” – as well as writing for “Hill Street Blues”) has developed an interesting pond technique. When he writes, he dictates to a typist who enters it into the computer on a screen visible to him as well. He often lies on the floor and invites his entire writing staff to sit in as well.
The writing staffers don’t contribute or even speak much, but are merely there to observe – not so that they can learn, but so Milch can write in front have an audience. In this way, his writing becomes more of a performance than a simple act of communication. Very Pond indeed.
Pond stories tend to be flowing and organic, but often lack any discernable backbone or throughline. They often verge on the episodic, and if the writer isn’t careful, can lose all sense of linearity (which doesn’t necessarily have to be a bad thing).
In summary then, a Row Writer prefers to work from a recipe and measure the ingredients accurately. A Pond Writers enjoys incorporating parts of several different recipes and throwing in a pinch of this and a dash of that.
Now, the point of exploring these two schools or philosophies is that you may have ended up learning the wrong set of techniques, or worst of all, have developed a hodgepodge writing methodology that is an awkward mix of both, neither fish nor fowl.
Stand back from your tried and true method of approaching a story, and assess yourself. Do you prefer your ducks in a row or in a pond?
Once you know, examine how you come to a story, the conditions under which you like to work, and the aspects of story development that you find most annoying.
Using the descriptions above, consider altering aspects of the manner and substance of your technique to be more consistent to the needs of a Row Writer or Pond Writer.
Although it may feel a little foreign at first, once the unfamiliarity has worn off, you will be amazed at how much more pleasant the writing process has become and how much more productive you can be.
As a final thought, consider that Row and Pond people often can barely communicate with one another. I am Pond (hear me roar) and live with a Row Person.
As Pond, I tend to begin a conversation by describing all of the items that have gone into my decision – before I even state what I was deciding. For example, I’ll start by saying, “You know how I hate going to the store the day before the new special sales are in effect?” Which, of course, is leading up to my point, which may be that we have to wait to service the air conditioner until the Winter when we won’t have to pay a premium. (Figure THAT out, you Row People out there!)
Pond People are more into the feel that surrounds the issues as if the specifics will rise up from the depths like Excalibur when enough information has been dumped into the lake.
Now, my Row Person will tell me (out of the blue, I might add), “We need to change the cat food to another brand.” And I’m left thinking; where in blazes did that come from. Of course, I will then be told that the cat is smelling worse than usual and my Row Person has determined it might be from the food, so we should try something else and see if it solves the problem.
Pond people usually start essays, paragraphs, or conversations with the elements that are most meaningful to them, with disregard to their hierarchical nesting. Row People usually begin with an overview of why this conversation is being held or the specific purpose that is about to be addressed.
Believe me, many hurt feelings can be generated just by a Row Person using his or her techniques to interpret a Pond Person, and vice versa.
So, once you have pegged yourself as Row or Pond, consider that your audience or readers will have folks of both varieties. If you speak to only one, you will be misinterpreted and ineffective to the other. Of course, that is done all the time, leading to particular genres of books, movies, stage plays, and television shows that appeal to only one half of the potential audience. Nothing wrong with that, but if you can learn how to translate between Row and Pond; you can double the potential audience for your work.
What’s more, consider the characters in your story itself. Each one will fall into the Row of Pond camp. Using your understanding of Row and Pond personalities, you can more realistically draw your characters, and also create whole new ways to introduce conflict and misunderstanding among them.
In conclusion then (and at long last), there is a place and purpose to all kinds of writers, for the audience is make up of all kinds of people. By becoming familiar with these different types and learning where you fall as well, you can be happier, more productive, and more effective.
One final note – if you can at all make it, don’t miss my three day StoryWeaving Seminar this November 10, 11, & 12 in Northern California. I only do one seminar per year, and this is it.
We’ll be holding it at the Ghost Mountain Ranch (site of the set of the television series, “The Virginian”) located about halfway between Sacramento and Lake Tahoe (roughly an hour from either).
Day one covers structure, Dramatica style, Day two is all about storytelling, and Day three outlines my step-by-step StoryWeaving approach to story development, in which structure and storytelling are simultaneously interwoven as you write.
The cost is normally $199, but as a reader of my writing tip newsletter, you can attend for just $99! So get your reservation today – seating is limited!
© Copyright 2006 Melanie Anne Phillips
“I write one page of masterpiece to ninety-one pages of shit,” Hemingway confided to F. Scott Fitzgerald in 1934. “I try to put the shit in the wastebasket.”