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That was a heck of a game last night. I didn’t really care who would win, and I haven’t followed football in years, so I hadn’t intended to do more than turn it on for background noise. At first, I thought it was going to be another dull blowout, but once New Orleans came back from the first quarter doldrums and started scoring, it was riveting football. I’d tell myself that at the next commercial break, I’d get to work on something–a letter, editing, a blog post, something. The computer sat there untouched each time because I didn’t want to miss anything when the game returned.

It was a lot like reading a good novel, when I tell myself I’ll stop at the end of the chapter, but I can’t stop reading when I get there. There was enough tension to hold my interest, and the level of tension varied so that it didn’t become monotonous. Little reversals of fortune grew in importance as time ran down, with a big, climactic moment and a quick denouement.

Maybe we can replace the “three act structure” with the “four quarter plot.”

I have joined a critique group, which I attended for the first time last week. Thanks to the group’s suggestions, I’ve cut almost 2,000 words of the 8,200 word story they saw. I haven’t even started on the structural changes that will trim more.

The cuts I’ve made so far were mostly scenery and description–two items I usually have too little of, not too much. In trying to improve my narration skills, I went too far and included so much detail that it read like blocking notes in a stage script: “Pat moves down left, then crosses to center.” Worse, I describe everything Pat touches or looks at while he moves. Too much detail. Part of learning to include description will be learning what I can leave out.

Yesterday I started a new short story with the working title, “The Substance of Things Hoped For.” I had a hard time getting it under way. I knew the broad outline of what I wanted to write, but the opening words wouldn’t come. After spending too much time doing unnecessary research, I decided to describe the opening scene’s setting. That primed the pump and I’m deep into the plot.

Like the other two stories I’ve recently written (this one is in the same project), it takes place in the past instead of the generic “now.” This one is set in 1969. The others were in 1976 and 1985. Writing fiction set in a specific time in the past has a unique challenge: I’m fascinated by history and it’s easy to get distracted by research. For the 1985 story, I needed a fact about the Sunshine Skyway bridge—and went on to read articles about the 1980 disaster, the Blackthorn tragedy that occurred near the bridge five months earlier, how the new bridge was designed, and how the remains of the old bridge were finally destroyed in 1992. Was any of this information necessary to the story? No. It was simply interesting—and I ultimately shifted the story inland and have the characters driving down Highway 301 instead.

“Substance” is about how the protagonist reacts to the birth of his daughter, which I had arbitrarily set on July 24, 1969. I didn’t realize the significance of that date when I chose it. When I skimmed a 1969 timeline I discovered that it the Apollo 11 crew returned to Earth on that date. I had to work that into the story. So I went on a search to discover what time splashdown had occurred and spent an entire morning reading interviews with the astronauts and the Navy diver who was first onto the raft, the specifications for the command module, and other completely irrelevant facts.

Most of the stories in this project will take place from 1969 through 1999, so I’ll face this problem again. Research can be fun, but I have to make sure that it doesn’t keep me from writing.

The big freeze killed a lot of our tropical plants and trees in spite of our best efforts to protect them. The devastation is very depressing, so it’s been hard to maintain a positive outlook. But “thinking positive” doesn’t mean “always happy,” and I haven’t let the setbacks derail my daily effort.

I’m getting better at managing my time, for one thing. Last year I complained a lot about having so little time and so much to do. I had more time than I thought. I merely wasn’t spending it wisely. I’ve spent less time lounging on the couch and more time doing things that I need and want to do recently. I’ve got more room for improvement, but I’m heartened by the progress I’ve made.

I finished “Untitled Stephen Regan Story #1″ earlier this week. It’s not much of a working title, is it? I often struggle with titles. It’s a good thing I don’t have children. They’d have been named “Work in progress” for the first three years of their lives.

Usually, whatever triggered the idea for the story also supplies a title. For example, “Big Little Blonde” came from a passage in a Ross MacDonald novel that I had jotted in my notebook. The line suggested a character, the character suggested the story. For “Untitled,” though, the original idea was too diffuse to provide a working title. I’m actually surprised that I finished it so quickly–a good working title often serves as  the spine of the story and can keep it focused.Without one, it’s easy to ramble. On the other hand, I had a good working title in “Blonde” but had so much trouble with focus that it spun off an entirely new story and I very nearly let the whole idea wither and die.

“Untitled” will have to find a title in revision. Meanwhile, I completed a second story about the same protagonist this morning–more of a vignette than a story–with the working title “Losing Faith.” It has been a good week. I wish I knew what I’m going to work on tomorrow.