The school year at the Lowewood Academy blog ended yesterday, and there won’t be another one. Although the blog will stay online, from now on it will be an archive rather than a work in progress.

This wraps up the most complicated fiction-writing commitment I’ve ever made: a story a week for three years, from the point of view of three characters, working in a shared world with a group of other writers. For a lover of school stories, Lowewood was a perfect universe for exploring a wealth of scenarios jumping into my head from day to day. For a spanking writer, it was an incredibly useful education.

As an epilogue, here are some of the things I’ve learned from working on Lowewood:

1. Episodic writing makes completely different demands on a writer than working on a novel does. For myself I’ve worked out that a good Lowewood post has to accomplish several things:

  • Be a story in its own right, with a set-up, developing action, culmination, and a resolution. (Cliffhangers notwithstanding.)
  • Slot into the larger plot arch of the school year, and move it along.
  • Develop your character, moving her/him along in the emotional arch you’ve planned for the year. For bonus points, assist fellow writers in their character journeys. For super-bonus points, also develop secondary (non-point-of-view) characters.
  • Drop in some details that will enrich the world of the school.
  • Have sizzling-hot spanking action, or at least hot sex. Bonus points if you manage not to make it look bolted on at the last minute, because you were too busy working on all the previous requirements.
  • Do all of the above every week, in no more than about 1200 words (an arbitrary length I chose for myself; other writers have other comfortable lengths, but writing short has been a challenge for all of us from the start).

Obviously, I haven’t always succeeded in all of this. Some of my fellow writers are a lot better at episodic writing, and I’m hugely envious of their achievements. I’ve tried to learn some tricks by watching character-driven crime dramas with pen and paper at the ready, mentally substituting crime-solving with spanking/sex. (“Criminal Minds” has been the most useful, because it pays the most attention to character consistency and development.)

2. Your characters are not you. They have to be enough like you that you don’t struggle coming up with emotional responses to the situations at hand, and different enough that you don’t hesitate to them unlikeable if the situation demands it.

I don’t have Sylvie’s finely honed awareness of her surroundings, or Ned’s impulsiveness, or Violet’s don’t-care attitude. At the same time, like me at 16, Sylvie likes the idea of boys more than actual boys. Like me at 16, Ned is deeply romantic. Like me at 16, Violet has a massive ego mixed with teenage self-esteem issues. All that said, none of them is me, which has helped me shape and hurt them to my heart’s content.

3. Speaking of an ego: when you’re co-writing in a big group, it’s essential to remember that you’re all creating a long work together, as opposed to it being just you writing some stories in the same world as your mates. You’ve got to be willing to respond to calls for help with plot and character developments, not bristle at requests for edits and changes, and sometimes write posts to order. Obviously, nobody would ask you to write something you’re uncomfortable with (notice that at no point has anything medical has appeared in my posts), but if there needs to be, say, a play rehearsal on a Thursday, you’ve got to be prepared to volunteer to write it.

4. Deadlines are deadlines, damn it.

These are the things I’ve learned, and even though I have no plans to do a similar project any time soon, the insights I got while writing for Lowewood have helped me develop, equipped me with new writing tools, and have been overall fantastically useful.

I’m deeply grateful to all my fellow writers for the work we’ve done together and the support I’ve had over these three years, to the readers for caring about our creations, and to Jessica for initiating and managing the whole show.