Some days I cannot talk.

Some days I have to write.

***

Moscow. 1961.

He bumps into me on the stairs, potato vodka stinking through his coat, and I m thrown into his skin. Not for the first time, but it s the worst so far. We are no longer standing in front of 22 Novaya Rodina with the all-new apartment buildings already beaten and cowed, but we are outside Lubyanka Square in the shadow of the iron man. I wear his eyes for a mask as the officer in the mud-green coat scribbles notes and says How long have the Lychenkos lived there?

I fall out of his skin and soar up the stairs. Mama, mama, I have to warn her. It s not a vision, but it s not a dream either, he touched me and I saw, sometimes it s wrong but I can t take a chance, not with this neighbor who knows our true name. I press the button and nothing happens. Every electrical current travels lazily down its wire, every gear clicks into place with a yawn, it s all taking too long. The building will not admit me. It is made of giant concrete slabs, cantilevered into place as if by magic, a Stonehenge for the people, the worker, the state. I press the button again.

***

Opening to my new work in progress, SEKRET. I needed a break from major plot rewrites for UNDER A DEAD MOON.

I recently finished an exceptionally crazy, jet-setting, stressful round of edits, the likes of which I don’t recommend to anyone, and therefore I will not be chronicling it in hopes that I will forget how I did it and never attempt it again. But since then, I’ve been toying about with a new story idea I got while UNDER A DEAD MOON rewrites were coming to a close. And when I say toying, I really mean toying. Picking it up by its tail and poking it to make it squeak. I’m a little terrified to do anything more.

But I would like to!

In previous manuscripts, I’ve written one-sentence chapter summaries to use as an outline, but I’ve yet to follow any of them. As I write, new subplots sprout, world details crop up, and I take them and run with them while trying to juggle some perceived balance of plot threads. This story, I want to make a little leaner. Instead of my usual two- or three-scene chapters, advancing the loosely related subplots as needed, I want this story to be one taut cord/chord of plot. Probably shorter chapters; probably a more frantic pace.

So I’m trying to write out “nodes” for the various plot points that need to be hit. Attached to each of these nodes are my notes about what I’m going to need to research before I can flesh out the scene. There are gaps between a lot of the nodes where I need to decide how something plays out. I may decide before I put any words on screen, or I may let it sort itself out before I get there.

I suppose you could call it a list-lover’s blend of pantsing and plotting!

How much of a framework do you like to have before you start writing? Even if you know in your head exactly how a story goes, do you leave it in your head, or do you try to get it on paper first? And do you find your method changes depending on the type of story you’re writing? I’d love to hear other techniques.

I love the online YA writing community. YA Highway has served as the hub from which I’ve discovered countless spokes of awesomeness: published authors, authors with their first release date looming, authors on submission, authors still honing their first manuscript. They host Twitter chats, chat rooms, agent contests, blog prompts, giveaways, you name it. I know I’m painfully shy, but some of these gals are amazing people I really hope to be able to call my friends someday.

And I love YA literature. It makes up half of my reading, sometimes more, and half of my writing as well. I just looked over my TO WRITE list and, yep, about 70% of those half-fleshed ideas are YA.

But my current baby is fantasy. Gritty gruesome adult fantasy that covers the MC’s life from 16 to 26. And that’s not to say that YA can’t be gritty and gruesome, because it certainly can, and it can be wonderful! But there is a vibe, a way of storytelling. YA is about finding your identity no matter how fantastic or horrendous your world. My novel is more about the MC coming to terms with the true identity of the empire she thought she loved.

So I’ve accepted that this novel is not YA, despite my general inclination to write YA, and until I have a YA ms worth submitting, I’m an outsider in these awesome communities, watching and cheerleading–which is fine! I love goading and prodding others to success. But I’d love to find a great fantasy community too. And though I’ve looked, I’ve yet to come across a centralized power core of awesome that churns out enthusiasm and positivity the way the YA community does.

Should I create my own? Would anyone take an unpublished hack like me seriously? Maybe we fantasy writers are meant to be a more isolated breed. I can’t imagine Tolkien churning out Tweets, or hosting a #Conlang live chat. I don’t want to get stuck as That Fantasy Chick either. Even though I have multiple fantasy series on my much-dreaded TO WRITE list.

Because the next story idea that’s been obsessing me, begging to be written? YA historical paranormal dystopian espionage romance thriller. Yes, really. And not an elf in sight.

We’ve talked about why you need to get into the writing habit, and the importance of the battle of beginning. Here are a few other tips I’ve collected for making time for what matters to me.

Get up early or stay up late. Lots of writers attest to the power of rising 30 minutes early for uninterrupted writing time while they sip their morning coffee. If you’re like me, however, and think being awake before noon should be illegal (but still have to get up at the ungodly hour of 6am), consider tacking 30 minutes on to your night. I’ve facilitated this by switching to working out and showering at night, and getting in some serious writing while I let my hair dry. It also seems to give me the extra push of mental fatigue I need to fall asleep easier.

Lunch is for non-writers. I eat lunch at my desk most days (yes, I’m antisocial and shy), leaving the rest of my “lunch” break for writing time. Most workdays I can pound out a good 300-800 words, or go through most of a chapter for editing.

Public transportation—study hall for grown-ups! I’m amazed how much reading I can get done on the train, and I try to break up leisure reading with editing time. If you drive in a relatively major city, you can probably free up a few hours a day just by letting someone else do the driving for you. Just make sure you actually turn that free time into writing/editing time instead of Angry Birds time.

@KDSarge mentioned that she hardly watches any TV now. I wasn’t always a big TV-watcher, until about four years ago, when USA Network decided they were going to sneak into my brain and steal every single thing I found awesome and rearrange them into an endless stream of amazingly fun shows. Burn Notice, Psych, Fairly Legal, White Collar… They aren’t gourmet meals, but neither are they greasy drive-thru fare. And they are addictive. But DVRs? Godsends. I save as many shows as I can for Saturday and Sunday morning. (Bonus: minimal commercial-watching, cutting an hour’s show down to 40m.) Lord help me, I will even DVR my beloved hockey and baseball games when I’m really crunched for time, and if I somehow make it through the week without hearing the score, then I’ll reward myself by watching them on 3x speed until something awesome happens.

Turn down just one extra social obligation. Your friends will understand—you want to make your dreams happen! Just, y’know, don’t keep turning down the same friend over and over.

What do you sacrifice to make time for writing?