“You have it.
You just have to believe that you have it.”
After you’re done editing a document in Word, save it and close it.
When you reopen it, hit SHIFT+F5. Congrats–you are now back to the last place the cursor was editing.
Wish I coulda known this last year when I was in the middle of making SCVK…Would’ve saved me a lot of PageDowns! On the other hand, it did teach me to use the document map. Hmm…
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I’m long overdue for an update but I wanted to at least share that tip.
I am not 100% a “pantser” nor a “planner”–I’m more of a “road trip writer.” I know the general direction I’m heading and some major landmarks along the way, but I’m not picky about how I get to the landmarks: I let the characters do their thing and I end up seeing some pretty spiffy side-jaunts, and we end up where we need to go.
Recently I hit the last big landmark, a massacre at Lanakila Camp (for years it was called “Litlen.” One of my major characters also got a name-change midgame, from Marzu Makza to Marzu Mākaha, because I want POLYNESIA IN SPACE durnit!!). After the massacre, I knew my protagonist would date a gal, get married and start leading his double-life with a family in tow.
Only one problem: the family wasn’t showing up. And except for a name-drop a hundred pages ago, the date wasn’t showing up either.
For many years, I knew Lanakila Camp was my last big scene, and I didn’t have any solid landmarks after that. I knew afterwards, this family thing would happen (I had bios and names and occupations for all the kids; I’d fleshed out different scenarios with these characters every night in my head while waiting for sleep to arrive) and I figured from there, the novel’d guide me.
It was extremely strange, realizing that this entire time, while I thought I was preparing for the second half of my novel, I’d basically been envisioning fanfic of it for the past few years.
Hunh, I thought to myself. There was no way I could shoehorn a family in. And I wasn’t feeling it anyway (I refuse to force things into my stories…they’re either there–usually extremely there, with making up mind-melting explanations as I hang on for dear life–or they’re not.)
Unsure how to cope, I did what any self-respecting writer would do: I wrote about it. I wrote out all my fears about no longer having a clear direction to follow, about how, if I was honest, it was true, his wife had never had a character that gripped me. I talked about how this made sense–my cast had grown to a point where it couldn’t sustain another five major characters…but also had enough different personalities to work interesting things with. Plus, I realized, the story really got cookin’ when things were focused around my two leads–adding a third lead would just dilute the impact of that relationship.
Writing all this helped me let go of that alternate universe that I thought was going to be canon. I typed out the aftermath of Lanakila Camp and reminded myself that if I showed up, the writing would show me what it wanted to do.
“Don’t spend time beating on a wall, hoping to transform it into a door. ” — Coco Chanel
I read a long time ago that there are only two kinds of beginnings:
A stranger comes to town.
Someone takes a journey.
Funny enough, seems like every story-beginning I’ve seen can be boiled down to either of these phrases (or sometimes both!).
I can’t say as I’ve ever used this factoid to start a story, but I think it’s useful to know.
A few observation and much reasoning lead to error; many observations and a little reasoning to truth.