Puzzling it Out

My family loves jigsaw puzzles. Partly it’s the shared goal, but mostly, it’s the camaraderie, the quiet togetherness as we meet around the table, rotating among the chairs as we take breaks for more snacks.

I recently discovered online jigsaw puzzles, which I find relaxing as a solo pursuit and distracting in a strangely productive way. As I fit the pieces into place with a satisfying click, other parts of my brain are working on writing tasks – generating ideas, resolving difficulties, clarifying language.

I’m not entirely surprised by this. I’ve always found working jigsaw puzzles a good way to (forgive the obvious pun) connect the pieces and make sense of the whole. A lot of the lessons I’ve learned from puzzles can be applied to writing, but also to life in general.

Work the border first—the big picture makes more sense with a little structure. Goodness knows I struggle with outlines, but having an idea of how things will end up saves a lot of work on subsequent drafts. Having a goal in sight makes life easier, but remain flexible.

Organize the workspace, sorting colors or patterns together. As the ideas flow, the workspace may become a little cluttered. Make notes and set them aside for later. Clear out anything that’s not working, so you can see the bigger picture. Connect what you can and save the rest for later.

Some sections are easier than others. Enjoy the flow without fear of the more difficult sections. That pesky sky section will come together as you recognize the nuances of tone, the shape of the clouds, etc.

If the original sorting isn’t working, try organizing by shapes. Different scenes elicit different emotions and have different shapes, if you will. Sometimes, I’ll write quick scene summaries on notecards and play with their positions in the story until things line up.

It’s not cheating to look at the picture printed on the box. If you’re stuck, stop and reflect. What does your story look like? What’s your central theme? Have characters stopped growing? Look at the big picture and adjust.

If you’re not getting anywhere, change seats, consider a different viewpoint or work on a different section. Things look different from the other side. How will readers view a particular scene?

How will the love interest react to the protagonist’s words or actions? If you’re not making progress on one part of the story, try a different one.

Accept help. Working a 1,000 piece puzzle goes much quicker with friends or family. Writing may be a solitary process in the beginning, but publishing a novel is a team effort.

Too much help isn’t helpful. Everyone deserves a seat at the table, but if you can’t see what you’re working on, you won’t get very far. Since it’s your name on the cover, the final call is yours.

You don’t have to follow every suggestion. If you’re really stuck, walk away and try again later. Life, and puzzles, look different in the morning. Don’t be afraid to step away and work on other things. Fold laundry, rake the yard, take a walk. The answer may be just around the corner.

If a piece doesn’t fit anywhere, perhaps it’s just not time for it. The last lesson is, of course, the most important.

We may be ready – to publish the book, start the new job, jump into a relationship, or move across the country – but if it’s not time, if the surrounding pieces aren’t in place, it won’t work, no matter how hard we try, no matter how much we push or worry. Trust in God’s timing. Continue to work to bridge the gaps, form connections, and find a solution, but don’t rush it. Don’t try to force it. When the time is right, every piece finds its connection and the picture becomes whole.

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Mayflowers