Writing with Yogi Berra

This week (and for the next five or six) I’m in Los Angeles, where torrential rain has the rivers flooding and the newscasters flabbergasted by the idea that there truly is such a phenomenon as weather. Seriously, the evening news devotes ten or fifteen minutes to the fact that there will be clouds in the sky and an absence of sun. Astounding.

This is a city full of stories – you know… There are eight million stories in the naked city… The problem with most of them is that the people telling them don’t have a clue as to what they’re trying to say. So they preen and ramble and assemble scenes, and at the end of the day you have a lot of pretty pictures full of pretty people saying pretty much nothing. Then, this being L.A., everyone rides off into the sunset and they get up the next day and do it again. Except when it’s raining. The work is all style and no story. It’s a problem a lot of writers have.

A friend of mine lives in St. Joseph, Michigan, where he and a friend of his want to open a restaurant. He’s a very personable guy, the ladies love him, and he has a great front of the house manner. His friend, from all reports is a competent chef. Sounds like a good start, right?

The problem is, they don’t know what kind of restaurant they want. He can talk all day about different dishes that he likes or that his friend specializes in, how he wants to make his place kind of like this or that place that he’s been to before. But when I ask him what kind of place he wants to build, the answers start by getting vague and then they run downhill from there. Tell you what; I love this guy, but I’m not putting my money into this project.

If there’s one thing that I’ve learned in all these years of running my own joints, it’s you have to know what you’re trying to do before you can do it. Like Yogi Berra said, “You’ve got to be careful if you don’t know where you’re going, because you might not get there.”
Exactly.

A good restaurant starts before the first cocktail glass is ordered or the first nail is driven. And one of the most important questions that a prospective restaurateur has to answer is what kind of space he’s trying to create. You’re going to have a bar and a dining area. Okay then, what kind of bar: wood, granite, marble, zinc, brass? What kind of dining room: white tablecloth, picnic tables, butcher paper and paper towels? There are a lot of decisions to make along the way, and all of those are predicated on what the menu looks like and how you want the room to feel. You have to answer those questions before you get started or you’re going to waste a lot of money and time and build a lot of problems into your project that might or might not become insurmountable. You’re making this a lot harder than it has to be, and all because you didn’t answer some basic questions before you got started.

Writers have to do the same thing. Plan ahead before you write the first line or you’re going to meander here and there, construct a few great scenes, but, in the end, you’ll have white tablecloths and BBQ ribs. Think about that for a minute – not a great idea, right? For example, have you any idea what your linen bill would be?
Which isn’t to say you can’t be flexible. Every good project changes and adapts as new information becomes available. To be too rigid is just as damning as being unprepared. A writer has to have his story in his head, just like a restaurant has to have a theme and a traveler has to have a map to reach his ultimate destination. But, if along the way, a little side road opens up, no one says you can’t wander down it for a while. You still know where you’re going, but maybe you stumble over a great new way of getting there.

Know your story and your characters as much as possible before you begin. Then write to that place that you ultimately want to reach. If you start out that way, you can’t get lost. There’s still work to do, but you’ve eliminated a lot of common problems simply by doing a little careful planning. Plan your start, work your plan and keep your eye on the ball. Sooner or later, you’ll get to where you’re going. And when you do you won’t have your readers scratching their heads, wondering why you’re serving sushi in a steak house. And you’ll be in a good position to ride things out and eventually succeed – even if you encounter a little rain.

— Ric Hess, Jan 28, 03:53 PM

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