Writers have promoted their favorite writing tools – each of which is different – for as long as I’ve been in the business, and probably all the way back to when the writers working on clay tablets sneered at that new-fangled papyrus stuff imported from Egypt. To some extent, it’s purely a status thing. If the guys with the clay tablets can convince people that their way is “better,” then at the least, they get looked up to as “real” writers. At best, their work will sell better or be more admired or last longer, or they’ll have an easier time finding a patron who is impressed with (and willing to fund) their supposedly-more-authentic work.

These days, though, there’s more to it than that. There’s still plenty of snobbery on display, from the folks who swear that nobody could possibly write anything decent without using a fountain pen to those who swear by the latest high-tech writing software that integrates playlists and Pinterest photos to help inspire each chapter, while tracking word count, productivity, and readability levels and generating a storyboard for each viewpoint character. But there are two things that both sides of the argument seem to leave out.

The first is that people are known to have three different modes of receiving and processing information: visual, aural, and kinesthetic. Everybody uses all three modes to some extent, but usually one is primary. For most of us, that’s the visual one. Those computer programs are good at that; they let you see lots of text and integrate photos, or do diagrams and storyboards that help visualize the story in different ways.

Computers also have a lot to offer those who like the aural mode – there are speech-to-text programs (and text-to-speech, if you want a flat computer rendition of your prose), and lots of places that will help you organize a play list of music that “fits” whatever you happen to be writing. If you want something simpler, there are hand-held recorders that you can dictate to, then download and transcribe.

But computers aren’t that great for those who are strongly kinesthetic. Keyboards have moved to a lighter and lighter touch, in the interest of speeding up touch-typing; the carriage return is long gone, along with rolling paper into a typewriter. What’s left is pen and paper, which impart a lot more physicality to the act of writing than any other currently available method.

Most of the paper-and-pen writers I’ve run into don’t think about it this way, but…they wax rhapsodic about the feel of a fountain pen gliding across a sheet of heavy, watermarked paper. They debate the advantages of ball-points compared to roller balls, fountain pens versus dipping pens: is it better to be able to keep going without having to stop when you’re on a roll, or do you get better results when you’re forced to stop every so often to re-ink the pen?

It’s no surprise that different writers have different favorite methods of production. It’s also no surprise that you hear a subset of editors and writers complain that computers have made writing “too easy” – the ability to keep changing and rearranging things with little effort makes for poorer quality work, they claim.

Having done some time teaching writing classes, I can attest to the fact that there are students out there whose stories suffer from “workshop burn” – that is, they’ve been rewritten and revised so many times that they’re like silver plate that’s been polished down to the copper. However, I don’t think that this is an inevitable result of using a word processing program; after all, I had fifteen students in that class, and only one had a story that plainly exhibited workshop burn. I think this problem is a function of a particular type of personality – the people who do this would try to do it even if they were working with chisels and stone tablets. The computer certainly enables them to take things to an extreme, but that’s not really the computer’s fault.

What all this boils down to is that when somebody says they work better with pen in hand, or music playing, or total quiet, it is probably quite true…for them. Persuading them to do something different, just because that’s what works for you, is probably a bad idea (unless what they are doing is manifestly not working for them, in which case “try something else” is the obvious solution).

I should also point out that many of us use different tools at different points in the process. Some writers handwrite their first draft, then type it into their computer for revision. I compose at the computer, but I frequently use pen-and-paper to diagram my plots and character relationships. It’s not a one-size-fits-all situation.

Which brings me to the second thing that gets left out of the argument:

None of the tools of writing will do the writing for you. Not the computer, not the electric typewriter, not the Bic pen, not a quill dipped in ink, not a brush painting on papyrus or silk, not a chisel on a stone slab. All the tools can do is to make the process work a little better, a little more easily, for you.

And while I don’t know even one writer who wouldn’t be exceedingly glad to discover a way of making their personal writing process a little bit easier, there comes a point of diminishing returns. Or no return at all. If you are a strongly kinesthetic writer, you might find writing a bit more fun or productive if you switch from a computer to handwriting with pen and paper. Spending six months testing every brand of fountain pen on the market to find the one with the perfect touch is unlikely to be worth the effort, especially if you are using it as a Writing Avoidance Technique. (If it’s something you’re doing in your spare, non-writing time, for fun, go for it.)

45 Comments
  1. What all this boils down to is that when somebody says they work better with pen in hand, or music playing, or total quiet, it is probably quite true…for them.

    Bull’s eye! I’m one who is happiest with pen in hand and total quiet. I keep that in mind when I’m struggling with a scene, bringing out the pen and paper (and seeking some time when I’m the only one in the house – nice and quiet).

    But I’ve found it very useful to be able to work in less than ideal conditions. And, generally, I can do so with the exertion of a little determination.

    Composing at the computer saves that typing-it-all-in step, so I have trained myself to do it. I’ll supplement with handwritten notes to get my writing brain going, often. But reserve the full bore pen and paper for only the tough spots.

    I’ve also learned to how to relax my botheration with noise while at the same time focusing harder on the content of my scene, so that I’ve been able to write with my two children playing conversationally right next to me. I would never have guessed I could do that back when I first started writing. And maybe I could not have – back then. But I’ve always been a push-my-limits sort of person.

    Interestingly (for me), I’d not put together my preference for pen and paper with my kinesthetic style. (Thank you for the insight, Ms. Wrede!) I recently took one of the better tests for learning preference which indicated that I’m one of those rare birds who is multi-modal – that is, I prefer a combination of kinesthetic (examples and movement), aural (hearing), visual (diagrams and maps), and verbal (written information) modes. I suspect that what that really means is that I prefer one sense for certain tasks, another for different tasks, and a combination for yet others.

    Here’s the URL for the test, if you’re interested:

    http://www.vark-learn.com/english/page.asp?p=questionnaire

    • It said I’m multimodal, which I already knew. I’m guessing that age and experience increases my ability to use different modalities, as I know the failings of each modality. I found myself saying, ‘Yes, but’ to most of the questions.

      Do I like to see a demonstration? Yes, but it depends on the demonstration, the speaker, the visuals that go with it.

      The thing I hate most learning from is audio – I can’t skim it, I can’t move ahead without working to figure out where the piece I need is. But I’m learning Pixelmator from Youtube videos, and find that the short videos (2 min.) which teach a particular skill work very well.

      It depends heavily on what I’m learning. But I’ll almost never watch a TED talk, for example, because it is usually too long and filled with stuff I don’t need. Unless the purpose is entertainment – in which case I may trust the performer as long as she remains entertaining (good comic timing is hard to find, wonderful when you do).

      It’s an awareness that things require different modalities – and I can use all of them if they’re appropriate. The internet has been wonderful for this. I now use all kinds of different modalities when I tackle something new.

      • I found myself saying, ‘Yes, but’ to most of the questions.

        Indeed, I did as well. I felt the concept of kinesthetic learning presented by VARK was particularly limited, probably because – honestly – our culture doesn’t address kinesthetic teaching very well. Little kids get to do kinesthetic learning, touching everything in sight, putting things in their mouths (!), building with blocks, making mudpies, etc. But as soon as they learn to read, watch out! VARK characterizes kinesthetic learners as liking to see examples (which I do), but severely neglects hands-on learning activities in its assessment questionnaire.

        It also mistakes someone wanting to be told certain information as a preference for the audio mode. In the questions where I checked that mode as one I’d want included, I thought about why I chose it. I wasn’t because I process audio information well. I don’t. I wanted the “telling” so I could watch the person telling me and see their body language while they were telling, as well as listening to the tone of their voice – again wanting the non-verbal cues.

  2. But… but clay tablets really DO last longer than papyrus. 🙂

    I’m one of those who works best on the computer. Being able to change things easily keeps me from coming to a dead stop every time I can’t think of the perfect word (and I don’t have to worry about reading my own handwriting.) I like to outline on 3X5 cards, though, and I know people who like to draft everything in pen before they touch a keyboard.

  3. I filled twenty notebooks with notes for Pride’s Children – and did all my writing in Word, with or without pen and paper rough drafts – and then came Scrivener.

    Scrivener gave me what it was so hard to get out of those rarely-read notebooks: the ability to just keep opening more files, dumping in my musings and everything else as I go, and then be able to SEARCH the whole kit-and-caboodle until I found that little piece I was looking for that had either ‘lion’ or ‘pacing’ in it.

    That searchability is the main reason I no longer am willing to spend that lovely time with my gel pens (I bought refills in lots of 100), and the smooth flow of ink onto paper. I ‘go to the paper’ as the mafiosi used to ‘go to the mattresses’ in times of stress or blockage: something about doing it by hand the old-fashioned way is useful when other things don’t work. But I absolutely love being able to find my own words.

    Since I write ten words of surrounding material for every finished word of fiction (that’s how my brain seems to work), I need to get those ten words out there quickly and efficiently so I can work with them. It may not seem as if I’ve speeded up my ante-diluvian writing methods, but I really, really have. I keep a notebook and pen by the bed to catch ideas when I’m napping, but they go into the computer to be expanded, as soon as I can.

    It would be interesting to compare material produced by both methods, but the comparison is complicated by (I hope) increasing skill, as well as increasing age, so it won’t be valid.

    You are definitely right about not getting tied down to any one method, and especially not to someone else’s method.

  4. It’s ironic you’re posting on this today, since today I posted about my favorite free apps to use for writing! LOL. Not that I’m saying you need the apps to succeed, just that I liked them. Also, I love the phrase “workshop burn”. I’ve definitely seen that happen!

  5. I am a person who frequently gets workshop burn, probably because of my mild perfectionism. It happens when I reach a block — a decision I don’t have enough information for, or even something like a character’s great-great-grandmother’s name — and during that block I reread what I’ve written and start editing too soon. I know not to do that, but I can’t help it, especially if there is no one around with whom to talk through my problems.

    I am distinctly aural in my learning style, and I find that the best help I can get is from talking aloud and having the other person be a sounding board. My husband isn’t very good at it though, being a visual learner, so the only times I seem to make any forward progress on my WIP is when my cousin comes to visit (for about a week twice a year).

  6. …and the other big advantage to clay tablets is that when the library burns down, their durability actually improves!

    Ta, L.

  7. I wonder if Kinesthetic writers here ever tried using a touchscreen and stylus? Or using smart paper? Or digitally scanning their notes with a handwriting reconnection program? Technology is working to integrate “touch” into computers.

    Also, you can still get custom mechanical keyboards. ^_^

    • I have the keyboard that supposedly duplicates the IBM Selectric keyboard feel, still remembered by touch typists everywhere as the absolute best.

      I also have Dragon for speech input – but I don’t think well out loud, so it may not be used much for my typical input.

      I’m thinking that it may be useful for reading a novel I already wrote, but which I don’t have a current digital file of (it’s on 3.5″ Mac floppies). My other option is to take the manuscript to Staples, run it through their scanning and OCR, and then edit that.

      Frankly, both methods are likely to take forever to clean up.

      I thought about two of the methods you mention – stylus, smart paper – but haven’t heard about scanning things in and teaching a computer to read your handwriting. My notes were not always done in the best of handwritings, and I have several different ones, so there’s the teaching followed by cleanup problem again.

      What I have done, sometimes, when I knew when something happened, is to re-read my own notes – which tend to get mixed in with journaling, and summarize the bits I think I may still be able to use.

      Technology advances – leaving me struggling to catch up. Such is Life.

      • …is to re-read my own notes – which tend to get mixed in with journaling, and summarize the bits I think I may still be able to use.

        Gosh, yes! I’ve learned how to make “sign posts” so that I can find those notes hidden amongst the journaling, but I wish there were a more organized way. Thing is…when I’m journaling along and an idea leaps to mind, I want to be able to simply go with the flow and jot it down right there and then. Stopping to get a different notebook or to boot up the laptop would be counterproductive. The thought or the moment might depart while I “got ready.” So I cope!

        When I’m working on novellas, the notes tend to be limited enough that I can page through my journal to find them when I need to refer to them. But for a novel, I often end up typing them into a computer file in order to have them in one place. I like this idea of dictating those notes instead! Thank you, Alicia! 😀

        • You’re welcome – hope it helps.

          I reserve the first two pages of every notebook for an index. I don’t always fill it in as I go, but whenever I re-read, if I want to be able to find something again, I enter it into those index pages.

          The key is to ALWAYS date your entries. Then, because I tend to write sequentially, I can always fins the bits again once I index them, and if I haven’t indexed them, I can sometimes find them roughly by date.

          There WAS a world before computers; those methods still work fine, even the clay tablets.

      • Is your keyboard made by Unicomp? Mine is, and I love the touch (I typed professionally, as a secretary not a writer, from the time the Selectric came into existence until they stopped making them.)

        The only problem with my Unicomp is that several years ago one of the cats got onto it and tore several keys off. To this day the zero key on the number keypad is merely resting atop its base, not attached to it, and can fall off at the least reasonable moments.

        • Yes, yes. Unicomp. And I gladly paid for a second one when the first one gave up the ghost after several years.

          Touch typing is TOUCH typing – the chiclet keys drive me nuts; I use them only when traveling with just the Macbook.

      • It *is* possible to get external 3.5″ floppy drives — usually they plug into a USB port.

        (I realize that only helps if the file on the floppy disks is something a modern computer can read, but there are a lot of file conversion programs out there.)

  8. Another vote for Scrivener – at least as means of organizing all the dribs and bits and overall structure of any longer work. The corkboard feature alone is worth the price of admission.

    However, I use MS Word for the writing itself, because I am well acquainted with its quirks, and I have set up a suite of macros that increase the efficiency of getting the words down and revising them. Once it’s down, I import my precious text into Scrivener – as simple as cut and paste. (I would prefer to use Scrivener for the input as well, but I haven’t delved into it enough to enough know whether it has a macro feature. And Word has some built-in “smart selection” modes that I don’t think Scrivener can duplicate.)

  9. Some writers handwrite their first draft, then type it into their computer for revision.

    That’s me – well, more or less. I do pretty much all my writing with a pencil and notebook, including revisions (which involve lots of Post-it notes for inserting new paragraphs). If it’s something I want other people to read, I then type it into the computer, which usually sparks further minor revisions – though I still like to work them out on paper before adding them to the typed version.

    I’m impressed by how many people talk about working in pen! I can’t imagine writing without the ability to erase things. I suppose you could cross them out, but still…

    • I do cross things out. And write new passages in the margins, with arrows showing where the different new bits go. Plus crossed out words with replacements above them. And so on. The page gets fairly messy. But that’s part of the process for me, part of why I like paper and pen: the freedom to just jot things down as necessary and cross others out. It feels very unconstrained. Plus, in my kinesthetic mode, the feel of the pencil lead on the paper really bothers me, while the gliding feel of my G2 pen on the paper feels great. 😉 (I do recognize that this is all idiosyncratic to me.)

      • I have always disliked the feel of writing with a pencil, especially if you hit a grit bit. I would much rather cross out than erase. Pencils are for marking wood for woodworking projects when you don’t want to use a scriber

    • Have you seen Elizabeth Wein’s first (handwritten) drafts?
      http://eegatland.livejournal.com/87527.html?title=last%20week&hashtags=

      • Wow! That is awesome! My longhand drafts aren’t quite that chaotic, but they are not neat either. Thanks for the link!

      • They look like my first drafts. Notebook paper and all. After one or two passes of writing additions or revisions in the margin, keyed to the text by alphas and betas, I’d put it into the computer and then annotate the printout until it was almost as messy as the first draft was.

      • That looks about the way I handwrite stuff — all over the place. It’s a miracle if any of it is legible later.

  10. I wonder how much of this is a ‘stylus vs keyboard’ (analog vs digital?) thing. I know that if I were required to write more than half a page or so with a uses-no-electricity tool that produced words by physically applying pigment to paper, my choice would be to dig out my ancient manual typewriter.

  11. I do the vast majority of my writing on the computer, mostly because I type a heckuva lot faster than I hand-write. (Thoughts still escape occasionally, but I catch a lot more of them.) But there’s a paper notebook in my back pocket and next to my bed for quick notes, and those “quick” notes have been known to run to a couple pages. And if I’m particularly stuck on a scene, sometimes dictating it will break it loose, and I once did a whole short story that way. So not only is there no One True Tool, there isn’t even one tool that is always right for one writer.

    None of the tools of writing will do the writing for you.

    This is the thing that always gets me. The whole concept of “writing software” kind of baffles me, because, um, I have a word processor. What more do I need? I can only assume the folks pushing it do a *lot* more pre-planning or other non-writing process than I do, because the features they extoll always look like more burden than benefit to me!

    But then, I do most of my writing, by preference, in a DOS-based word processor from the last century. It does everything I want and (perhaps more importantly) nothing I don’t; it ain’t broke, so why should I “fix” it?

  12. And this is why I get so frustrated with the Scrivener evangelists. I do so badly want Scrivener to be a useful tool for me, but it just *isn’t.* I’ve tried plotting software, too, like Aeon Timeline (plotting is the hardest part for me), but my brain just doesn’t work that way, and I end up more frustrated than when I started.

    I wish I knew whether my problem is the software as it exists, or if it’s just the whole concept of using software to plot a novel that isn’t for me. But it’s incredibly frustrating, when I want it to work so badly.

    I keep thinking there’s a better way to plot than flailing about, but I haven’t found one yet, and, believe me, I’ve looked.

    • I keep thinking there’s a better way to plot than flailing about, but I haven’t found one yet

      Same here! Unfortunately, I think a certain amount of flailing is an integral part of my process.

      Well, something’s got to be hard, right?

      • May I suggest that Scrivener is not a magic wand? And that Scrivener was created to help people who think the way Scrivener was programmed? And that you don’t think like Scrivener’s programmers?

        I do lots and lots of plot flailing, too, but I do it all in my head because that’s part of my process. For me, and this may just be for me, plot is what happens when a fully realized character runs smack-dab into detailed world building and decides to be proactive about getting their way. Then other fully realized characters react to a change in the status quo. At which point, hi jinks (and plot) ensue.

        Because I “pre-write” the story in my head, all I need tool-wise is a computer and a word-processing program. (I switch between Word and Word Pad for various reasons). The only time I don’t use a computer is when I 1) take notes on paper because I keep forgetting the names of my minor characters (I also forget real people’s names a lot) 2) I need to do something graphic like genealogies or coordinating multiple time lines.

        The only tool I use for plotting is a rolling outline that lists who needs to do what to whom and when/why. (It’s kinda like a chore list.) That outline gets edited, too, when things like plot bunnies happen.

        • …plot is what happens when a fully realized character runs smack-dab into detailed world building and decides to be proactive about getting their way…

          That’s the way my mind works also. Somehow the collision between those elements generates stories for me. Like you, I use an ever-morphing outline to keep me on track, plus a few notes on details that I’ll otherwise forget.

          And when I get stuck, which doesn’t happen often, but does happen, I journal about the characters and their situation and their world, which always (so far) nudges my thoughts to coalesce in a way that clears the block.

        • Your second paragraph sounds pretty darned similar to my process. 😉

          As for
          May I suggest that Scrivener is not a magic wand? And that Scrivener was created to help people who think the way Scrivener was programmed? And that you don’t think like Scrivener’s programmers?

          Yes, you may. Especially if you could do so to its more, ah, insistent user-evangelists. (Which is not, incidentally, anybody upstream in this comment section. If it works for you, great! It’s only the folks who try to shove it down my throat that make me, well, want to shove it down their throats. 😉 )

          • I don’t suppose someone would like to describe in a few words what Scrivener is? I never heard of it before this discussion. I used Word 2.0 for years, until I couldn’t get a computer that would use it any more. I now use something called Libre Office which is supposed to be a Word lookalike and isn’t really.

          • It’s only the folks who try to shove it down my throat that make me, well, want to shove it down their throats.

            I haven’t run into any of those yet. But then, I don’t hang out a lot in writing forums or around tool pushers trying to be “hlepy*”. Mostly because I’m either feeding the muse, pre-writing or writing/editing when not working on a craft project. The writers/authors I meet in real-space tend to geek out about their non-writing hobbies when they, too find out I’m a fellow ______er.

            * This a term from another forum I’m on. It’s used to describe the type of evangelist that doesn’t listen to you and assumes that what worked for them will automatically work for you regardless of things like past efforts, context, and general applicability.

          • The Scrivangelists were particularly bad when I was doing NaNoWriMo a couple years ago. But then, NaNo’s like that.

            “Hlepy” — love it! I am so adopting that for several forums I occasionally fail to avoid hanging out at.

          • @Dorothy:

            Scrivener is software that, in addition to being a word processor, allows you to store all of your notes and organise them. It has several modes – you can use it for text and outlines and notecards, and you can cross-reference pieces of text and notes and images.

            (I use Storyist, which is built on similar principles).

            I’ve found that this kind of software is wonderful for keeping all of my notes in one place: it’s easy to keep outtakes, notes, research articles, list of names, or anything else related to one particular book in one file where a simple search will unearth it again.

            I also like the ease with which I can keep two parts of the same manuscript open side by side, so I can check what I said in chapter five while I’m writing, or consult my notes, or…

          • Dorothy,

            What *I* like about Scrivener is that it’s a lot more versatile in terms of format/layout of scenes/chapters/random bits than word is. A Scrivener “scene” can be anything from a word or two to many thousands of words, and it can also be a folder with other scenes inside of it, and it can live inside folders.

            My stories, for example, tend to go chronologically, so I’ll have a folder for the draft and then perhaps folders for chapters inside that, or maybe just folders for weeks/days/major events (or days inside chapters, or whatever). And I can make them different colors depending on what character is narrating (or any other tag I choose). Then, because each scene is its own discrete unit, I can drag them around as necessary, or highlight certain scenes and read them all through in a row (the scenes from a particular character’s viewpoint, say).

            For really long stories, it is *so* much nicer than a 200-page word document (and you can choose to export the finished story into .doc or .rtf or .pdf or whatever you need), especially if you have any tendency to rearrange bits of story after you’ve written them.

    • I’m glad I’m not the only person who struggles with the Scrivner thing. I’ve tried it out and it just seemed like more WORK than sitting down with a basic word processing tool and just WRITING.

  13. Glad to hear I’m not the only one mixing up hand-writing and typing. I’ve been trying to write in Scrivener, but I’m using it pretty much exactly as I used Word. This just means I’ll save a step later on in compiling it as an ebook. I keep opening up things like the Corkboard and thinking, but I don’t want that on the computer — I want it on an actual corkboard! And I definitely plot by hand. I also like the editing while typing up part of the process.

  14. Love that final thought. Your tools are not going to do the work for you. It’s the same thing with art. When someone makes a digital painting, I see a LOT of people asking “what program did you use?” It doesn’t matter. It’s the skill of the artist, the understanding of anatomy, light and shadow, and color usage that make the picture. You can make art in Photoshop or MSPaint and it can still be gorgeous. Just like you can write pen and paper or on Scrivner and still end up with an amazing piece of work.

  15. @Dorothy

    I haven’t used Scrivener either, but here’s a link to the website.
    http://www.literatureandlatte.com/scrivener.php

    It looks like Scrivener is a writing program that works like a design tool. It has a corkboard where you can type your ideas on “notecards” and move them around. It has an outliner where you can enter the pieces of your outline and shuffle them as needed. You can type your story in chunks and move them around. Or you can just type your story.

    • Oh dear. MUCH too complicated for me.

      You must remember that I am older than computers, that I was already reading when Grace Hopper pulled the bug out of the relays and learned to type on a manual typewriter.

      Thanks for the link, though. 🙂

      • Dorothy, I just turned 65, learned to type on a manual typewriter in Mexico in the 60s, and positively love my Scrivener.

        It has a lot of bells and whistles; you don’t have to use many of them at all.

        The only reason to switch writing tools that are working for you is that you have surpassed their capacity, can’t find the hardware repairs or software updates, or have a physical problem you have to deal with.

        Otherwise, keep what works for you – if it TRULY does.

        I stayed in Word for Mac for years – but it just got too unwieldy for a long novel. And my computer go too slow for the internet. I lost several months of my life both in getting the new Mac up to speed and switching to Scrivener. I’m still glad I did.

        To make the switch, if and when you decide to use anything new, take a little time and take a course – local community college, adult school, or online – and be prepared to dig into a For Dummies book on it as well as the user’s manual.

        But mostly, don’t change what works because of some will-o’-the-wisp.

        Alicia

  16. I think a distinction needs to be made between the tools used to write the text that actually gets into the story, and the tools used for the notes, worldbuilding comments, outlines, character sketches, and other stuff that doesn’t get put into the story itself. I can imagine a working process that makes heavy use of various and sundry programs on the computer for the second, while insisting on pen-on-paper or pencil-on-paper for the first.

    As for me, I’ve got Word for the first, but I’m still thrashing about the second. I create a lot of little .txt and .rtf and .doc files with notes (plus the occasional excel spreadsheet), and I find that I can’t use any program that tries to put all my notes into One Big File. What I’d like is a program that will make it easy to create and maintain an index of all my various text-type files of quick notes.

    It would be something that I could point at a directory and say “automagically create (or update) an index of all the text-type files here.” That I could then use with the index-file so created to view, search, and add comments or keywords to the various text-type files so indexed. (With the keywords in comments being stored in the index file, rather than appended to the text and doc files themselves). Does anyone here know of such a thing?

    • The main reason I switched to Scrivener was to be able to go from the wordprocessor part directly to creating my own ebooks.

      Scrivener is NOT a typical wordprocessor – it is NOT WYSIWYG; what is on the screen is just text until you tell it whether you want/need any postprocessing.

      But the complete win is that it handles ALL those part 2 things you’re talking about: research in all kinds of file format, images, links, and all in the same project file.

      You can see as much or as little of ALL your stuff at a time. You can make and use index cards, get outlines easily, and join a whole bunch of files into a single one for searching.

      So I got MUCH more than I thought I was getting – though it does take a bit of time to master how to store and use all the extra stuff.

      I used to be Word + paper research and printout files based; now, it’s 99% Scrivener – and I rarely open all those carefully-created paper piles in the stack of in-baskets on my desk and in my file cabinets. I don’t need to – it’s all in the computer, and instantly accessible.

      So, it can be done. I recommend taking Gwen Hernandez’ Scrivener course online, and doing your homework every day; also, buying her For Dummies book.

      The best part? Even if you do all that – program + course + book, you’ve invested only about $100. Unbelievable. And you can make your own ebooks directly, as well as set up for Word or pdf files.

      Again, as I said above, don’t do it if you’re happy with the way you already work; but if you’re already unhappy with your current methods, it’s well worth considering.

      Alicia
      (and no, I don’t get any cuts – this is just how I learned it)

      • But the complete win is that it handles ALL those part 2 things you’re talking about: research in all kinds of file format, images, links, and all in the same project file.

        Except for that last bit which is a deal-killer for me. As I wrote above: “I find that I can’t use any program that tries to put all my notes into One Big File.” Which Scriviner does – I’ve checked it out before.

  17. The most useful tool I ever had was 8-foot square — an upright screen made of two sheets of a sort of bulletin board material. And a lot of push pins and colored yarn, etc.

    I made a timeline across it, pinned up typed notes. Mainly I put up ‘arcs’ of colored yarn from when the characters encountered an issue, to when it was more or less settled. I thought of them as overlapping arches supporting an aqueduct. Where there were not enough arches, would be a weak place in the story, so it would need another arc or two from somewhere before that place to somewhere after it (like a stitch). Or one or two minor arcs should end or begin there.

    This just fitted my kinesthetic/visual processing. Wouldn’t be very practical on a 14-inch laptop screen, though.