Not too long ago, I wrote an article about the unsung writing skill of correctly deciding story length. Since I realized this, I’ve been able to reduce the size of my “folder of good ideas” for the first time in my life. I now realize many ideas should’ve been short stories—which I can execute on a free Sunday—or should be combined before calling it novel-worthy.
I also wrote an article about hyperactivity and what I’ve learned about it. This one is much longer, more personal, and potentially incorrect as I’m still learning.
Well, what do you know, a few weeks later I plan to start the next Wildebyte book and I’m just stuck. I know there’s enough material here for a novel. I know it doesn’t have to be good, or long, or groundbreaking, I just have to start and get a first draft.
But, as so often happens when you have ADHD, there’s this mental block that makes it impossible to … think. Impossible to focus and pick something, to such an extent that you sit on a chair all evening doing absolutely nothing.
I started reading some articles / posts about writing. I thought about stories I’d experienced of late that interested me, hoping it could give me some positive energy or inspiration.
And then I realized something I should’ve realized way earlier.
The realization
Most stories that I think are really good (well paced, always interesting, etcetera) are actually subdivided into smaller story chunks.
I thought Andor (the Star Wars show) was brilliant. It has 12 episodes that are pretty neatly divided into four 3-episode-arcs.
I liked Arcane. It has 9 episodes that can also be divided into 3-episode-arcs.
The Stormlight Archive, which are huge and complex books, are divided into multiple chunks as well. Each chunk has some clear purpose, setup and resolved within itself. It makes the story easy to follow and the books feel much shorter than they are.
In general, my stories greatly improved once I learned about the “midpoint twist”. Some big reveal or event roughly halfway a book that splits it in two significantly different acts.
On the other hand, I identified stories that I could recognize as being “good” or “well thought-out”, but just felt boring and slow to read/watch. And now I believe this is one of the reasons. Stretching a thread or “story idea” out over an entire book means a huge distance between setup and resolution. Crossing it will take so much time and so many steps that it feels slow and boring, even if the buildup and resolution are immaculate.
The consequence
In other words, I now believe a good story is a repetition of small (3-act?) story “chunks” that do something different. (I could write this off as personal preference, if it weren’t for the fact that the examples I mentioned are pretty much unanimously loved around the world.)
Of course, the chunks should connect. One should lead into the other. There can be recurring elements, or a setup in chunk 1 that’s only resolved in chunk 2.
For the most part, however, each chunk only considers itself. It has a strong focus and a clear goal, keeping a good pace with a list of interesting steps towards that goal.
You probably see where I’m going with this. I also believe following this structure is a crucial tool for writers with ADHD.
I hear it all the time. Other writers with ADHD recount their experiences and they match, word for word, with mine. We only have enough interest and attention for, what, 10,000 words at most? Sometimes even 5,000 is the ceiling. Even if we’re really excited about our story, and it’s going really well, we simply lose focus and motivation after a week or two.
This is a way to combat it. No need to see your story as a whole. No need to get overwhelmed by 80,000 words, which you’ll be hard-pressed to fit into a week’s work. Instead, focus on chunks of 10,000 words, and nothing else.
To make sure you stay interested—and the story is good, of course—make the chunks decidedly different. The first chunk is a bank heist. The second one is a love story. The third one is a chase across a fantasy landscape. Etcetera. Each chunk will feel like a completely new story, hence giving you the focus needed to actually do it and finish it.
This is such a vague, general overview that it should even work for pantsers. (Those who, like me, don’t want to plan too much about their story beforehand.) Surely you can find ~8 general objectives / genres / topics to explore, which you can place in whatever order.
Once you’ve written the chunks, you’ll have so much knowledge about the story that you probably already know how to connect them. If you are consistent with your characters and worldbuilding, the story will not feel disjoint.
A real example
I’ll illustrate this using the book I was stuck on: Wildebyte 4 (Uptopia Falls). If you don’t want spoilers, don’t read this. But the book won’t come out for many months, so you’ll probably have forgotten anyway :p
The Wildebyte books are ~40,000 words (at most). That means we’re looking at 4 chunks, perhaps more, because the story moves so fast.
In this one, WB is stuck in a “endless jumper” game. They need to jump all the way to the top to escape and move on with their life. At the same time, as always, they have a Lost Memory to retrieve. (Their memories were scattered across the device when they entered, so each book involves getting a memory back in one way or another.)
- Chunk 1: Introduce unique rules and mysteries of this game world.
- Chunk 2: Figure out how to jump and rapidly move upwards.
- Chunk 3: Realize there’s a Lost Memory; get sidetracked chasing it.
- Chunk 4: The last jump seems impossible, forcing WB to use all they’ve learned from the previous chunks to basically instigate a rebellion between the “low characters” and the “high characters”.
They clearly tell an overall story. They work towards the final goal of “beating” the game and getting out at the top, the exact thing stated in chapter 1.
Yet each chunk is completely different.
- Chunk 1: We’re setting up a sort of mystery or spy thriller, full of worldbuilding and shady characters to introduce.
- Chunk 2: We’re writing a lot of action and game design stuff.
- Chunk 3: We’re writing tough decisions and introducing outside forces, a quest through a higher layer.
- Chunk 4: This blends dialogue, building trust, rallying, resolving the spy stuff with action and a smart trick when applying the game rules.
I can do that! I think to myself. Each chunk is like a new short story. I can take breaks between them, or even write them out of order.
At first, I was getting close to thoughts like “I’m a failure” and “will I ever find energy to write again?” (Artist gonna artist and be dramatic.) What felt like an insurmountable task, however, became a sequence of short stories that felt doable.
If it’s so hard to find motivation, why do it!?
This is a common misunderstanding. People cannot see why you’d actively pursue something if it doesn’t hold your interest for long. Why you’d become an artist if you then procrastinate actually doing the art.
I’ve noticed an incredibly high percentage of writers (both hobby and professional) have ADHD. I think it’s because writing is such a complex task, that requires focusing on so many ideas and threads, that it draws people who like or need that amount of stimulation.
The greater the challenge, the greater our reward. And people with ADHD are looking for the greatest of rewards only.
Besides that, I’m also a special case. Thanks to amazing events in my youth (cough) I lost the ability to like something or want something. I just … lost it. Nothing truly brings me joy, I have no goals or wants, it’s just gone. The best way to get it back and not fall further, is to stay busy and keep doing something every day.
On many days, that means writing some new story. On other days, it might mean making a game, or writing an article like this one.
Motivation is mostly a non-factor in my life. A statement that is unfortunately true for many, especially those with ADHD. If I can be unmotivated while doing some useless desk job, or I can be unmotivated while creating something new and hopefully meaningful, I’ll pick the latter.
Besides that, the world runs on good habits, supportive environments and discipline ;)
I don’t think it’s unhealthy or “wrong” if you need good habits and useful tools to stay on track and be productive. To often fail to find motivation for the thing you chose to do with your life. It’s just a side-effect of humans being imperfect and not made for the modern world in the first place.
Conclusion
Anyway, that’s my trick. I obviously haven’t used it on enough projects so far to be certain or give more details. Maybe I’m completely wrong. But so far, so good.
Whatever your story length, break it into chunks of a length you can manage. (I see 10,000 words as an absolute upper bound.) Plan the general chunks in advance, make them decidedly different using twists and perspective changes, then see your project as nothing more than a few short stories to write.
This will help you to actually do the work and finish the story.
It also, in my experience, simply leads to good stories.
With my first books, long ago, I really tried to connect everything. Each scene pushed five story threads forward. Every single damn line was important and referenced in the chapters after it. It was all connected! Brilliant!
Well, no. It was overwhelming and tried to be too smart for its own good. In my experience, short focused chunks (that are roughly a 3 act structure) that loosely flow into each other will lead to much better stories.
Hopefully this helps someone,
Tiamo Pastoor