Deborah Cooke: Author

One of the things that has been interesting about the critiques I’ve been doing for the writer-in-residence program has been the opportunity to read so many kinds of work. Although there have been romances among the partials, there have also been fantasy novels, coming of age stories, women’s fiction stories and partials that sound like literary fiction. And since one of the challenges for new writers is structure – in fact, it remains a challenge for each new type of work any author does – I’ve been thinking a lot about where stories begin and where they end, depending upon what kind of book the author is trying to shape.

I’ll add another variable into this mix – movies on DVD. You’re wondering where I’m going with this, no doubt, but the interesting thing about DVD’s (or CD’s) is that they’re cheap and they hold a lot of data. So, after the movie is on the disk, there tends to be space left, and it is the natural inclination of marketing people to “add value” by adding more stuff onto the disk. I’ve been watching a lot of interviews with directors, which tend to be installed as extra content, and it is interesting to see how differently they work.

If you think about it, a movie has the same structural issues as a novel. Where does the story start? Where does it end? How could the beginning be made more compelling? What will hook the viewer/reader? How can we orient the viewer/reader?

Some directors have an organic method for creating a film. Gosford Park is a favourite movie of mine, and it’s striking to listen to the director Robert Altman describe his technique. It’s very organic. He likes for surprises to happen when the cameras are rolling, and to integrate those unexpected moments into the final film. He argues that they are the best and the most truthful moments in the film. The actors seem to find his method a bit disorienting but ultimately empowering.
I can see Altman’s point – there are times in writing a book when a character says something unexpected, when the dialogue just falls out of my fingertips and is precisely right. I love those moments, but it takes time to work intuitively and organically. Inevitably, though, there is a lot of editing and a good bit of work that gets chucked.

This week, in contrast, I watched both Amélie – another fave film – and the director’s comments upon making that film. I was fascinated by the preparation that Jean-Pierre Jeunet did for the film. He made storyboards in advance, which documented each and every scene in the movie ahead of time. The cinematographer was astounded that he knew how each scene would be filmed weeks in advance, because of the storyboards and their detail. The director’s argument is that it’s expensive to film and wasteful to throw away hours of material in editing. He says that it’s impossible to think on the set, that the thinking must be done in advance so that the team can focus on capturing precisely what is needed.

I find this argument quite compelling. It’s the opposite end of the spectrum in terms of working style, since every single detail is planned out in advance, but I can see its effectiveness. And in the end, Gosford Park has a looser structure and focus, while Amélie is a film very tightly locked on its destination. Different styles and different results.

There are authors who use storyboards or plotting software, and there are authors who plan as they go. “Plotters” and “Pantsers” are the usual terms in writing circles. I’m fascinated by the storyboards, though, and intend to play with finding a variation which will work for me.

How do you plan your stories?

As a reader, do you like books with a looser focus, or books that know precisely where they’re going and don’t stray on the way?