When I began writing my novel, theme was not a conscious part of the early drafts. But, as I wrote the theme naturally evolved.
P.S. Hoffman points out, …”theme will help you find exactly where you need to end your writing, be it fictional, or other.”
This was the last thing Swen said to me, before he jumped off the cliff: “I’m going to do something that you will never forget. Witness me.”
As he fell upon the war band, I watched as a car, covered in spikes, collided with his body. I watched as the explosives fell from his hand, undetonated, and his body impaled on the car’s spear-covered hood.
But Swen died with a smile on his silver-stained lips. And he did not die in vain.
Weeks passed, the brothers were killed, and the fortress fell, but still, I could not rid myself of Swen’s dying words. It was only after the water began to run again, when the sanded bluffs turned from red to green did I fully realize Swen’s message.
Story Attachment Syndrome (SAS), as I like to call it, is similar to Helicopter parenting. And for those of you unfamiliar with the term, I’ll paraphrase. Helicopter parents hover over their children in a state of extreme concern, protect them from real or imagined harm, resolve stressful situations and get them out of trouble, even if they misbehave. Experts say overprotective parents hinder a child’s ability to grow into mature and responsible adults.
Writers often behave in a similar pattern when it comes to writing a story close to the heart. Our stories are our babies. We know them inside and out or think we do, and don’t want anyone else telling us a scene, character or, God forbid, the whole plot isn’t working. They hover, protect and refuse to accept constructive feedback, make revisions or edits, even when doing so would make the story stronger.
We’ve all been there at some point in our writing journey, but the key to finding a cure, as with anything, is to recognize we have a problem. SAS is no respecter of persons and can affect writers of all levels of experience. Long-term effects cause less confidence, a floundering work in progress (WIP), sense of hopelessness causing one to stuff the WIP in a drawer in defeat, or arrogance and sending a poorly written story to the world.
You Might be Suffering from SAS if:
You have a manuscript or story you’re struggling to complete (extreme concern). Think, as in years.
If you protect parts of your story, you know in your gut, may be detrimental to the story as a whole.
You insist certain scenes or characters are essential to your story, despite feedback they need revision or not working.
You avoid feedback altogether because it’s safer.
Children learn from making mistakes if we let them. So do writers. Overprotecting children or manuscripts, for the sake of avoiding failure, will result in the very thing we wish to avoid. Trial and error help us become skilled, confident writers and published authors.
Fortunately, like Helicopter parenting, SAS is curable.
How to overcome SAS?
Step back and honestly evaluate your story or solicit the help of a trusted editor or Beta reader.
Don’t shy away from thinking outside your plotline. Revisions are part of growing as a writer.
Remove your protective blinders and listen to constructive feedback.
Believe in yourself – not every story will be perfect, but practice does make perfect.
As someone who has been working on my novel, for several years, I can relate. I’ve revamped a few things in my story, changed the timeline, and scenes are in the trash.
My helicopter has landed.
If you would like more information, check out Jennifer Blanchard‘s video on story attachment.
What about you? Do you suffer from SAS? I’d love to hear your story.
I started writing my first novel, several years ago. Since then, I’ve revised, cut, changed the timeline, and rethought some of the characters in my current work in progress (WIP).
Am I going about the process the right way? Perhaps and perhaps not, opinions differ.
You’ve decided the story you’re writing, isn’t the real story.
The character you thought was the protagonist isn’t.
Or, you’ve studied the craft, learned a few techniques, and want to fix your mistakes.
As part panster and part planner, I’ve experienced all of the above. I do study the craft; I read and sometimes make revisions and edits. I hope my novel will be better for it.
At any rate and well past 30,000 words, I’m too far to stop now. I plan to see this first draft to fruition.
Want more information on writing a novel, check out these resources:
Fred stopped pacing and stared out the window. After three straight days of rain, he watched with growing trepidation, as the sun appeared in a blue sky. Every time it rained three days in a row, something bad happened. “Bad things come in threes,” his mom said. This time he prayed she’d be wrong.
He waited for the doctor to emerge from his wife’s hospital room. “Please God, give me a sign.”
A singular leaf caught his attention. Five clinging drops glinted at him as if in Morse code. Rain. Hearing footsteps, he turned. The doctor was smiling.
COW PASTURE CHRONICLES 