Showing posts with label Editing. Show all posts

First, I want to thank all the lovely peeps who gave me words of encouragement and advice, both in the comments of On To Revisions and on Twitter. You're all so kind and super helpful when a fledgling writer is lost, I can't thank you all enough.

SO. On to business. From all the advice, I gleaned a tidbit of information I was wondering about.

There is no special trick when it comes to revisions.

Sounds kind of "Duh," right? Well, when you look at it from the eyes of a writer just starting out, who's never had to edit or revise a 90K novel before, then it's a whole different view. With all the ways to outline, organize, and write the first draft, I'd begun to think there were specific methods to go about revising as well. Of course there are some different techniques - stickie notes, charts, reading aloud. But somehow, the revision process seems more like just a big mess of words only the writer can find rhyme or reason in. And, well, that's exactly what it is. With revisions, there's no real formula anyone can learn and follow. It has to be even more organic than writing the initial first draft.

Hence, no secret. So, what now?

I finally finish the first draft of my novel! Now on to revisions, and feedback from Beta Readers.

I'm so out of my depth here. *despairs*

I've come to fully appreciate the harsh fact that anyone can write a story, but making it good is the hard part. Taking it apart and putting the piece back together in the best sequence, catching the discrepancies in character development, worldbuilding, plot holes. Making sure the narrative voice is constant, the actions believable, and the flow of the story is paced well. This is were so many fledgling writers trip up, lose focus or abandon the story, and I don't want to be one of those 'ex-writers'. Revisions take a deeper understanding of the craft.

Again, SO totally out of my range of knowledge here.

I've never had to edit or revise anything more than, say, 10 or so pages, and never before a full length novel I wrote myself. Do you know what? It's HARD. If I thought I was a novice writer, I'm a lowly amoeba when it comes to revising. I've been poking at the manuscript printout for a few days, a little fearful of the length (303 pages at the moment), and a little lost on what to do first. Do I go through and fix wording, rip out all the that's, -ly's, and general over usage? Do I read and make notes on what to fix, change, remove or add? Do I twiddle my thumbs and wait for the Beta Readers to finish and let me know what they think? Huddle in the corner as the monster of revisions looms over me?

So, I've been working on revisions the last few days, but you know that nagging thought at the back of my head I mentioned earlier? Yeah, it wouldn't go away. So I had to have another heart to heart with my WIP. It turns out, its a weak little thing that knows it won't make it past a form rejection, and definitely not past a partial.

Alas, I must rewrite the whole thing. From basically scratch. Only three bare boned plot points are staying - the beginning, the climax, and the end. I've been a busy little bee working out how to redo this. I decided it was time I write down every little detail of all my characters, really work on the world building, and do an outline before I get down to actually writing out the scenes.

Problems? Oh, yeah, you know... a BIG one.

Well, it feels big, though I know I know the answer, I just can't yank it out of the ether. Because no matter how gun ho I am about the rewrite, the almost complete change in the flow, the research to ensure my characters and my world are realistic, the PLOT of the last draft still won't DIE. It won't leave me alone! HAUNTING ME! *puts on Evanescence Haunted* I keep trying to fit the last plot in with my current working one. All I've got so far is the first three sentences of the basic outline - as soon as I get past that, it becomes a bastardization of the old plot. Its getting really annoying, I must say.

THERE IS HOPE!

Why, in the reading of books! I'm taking to reading a bit before bed, and with more influences, I think I may be able to power through this plot pause. In fact, thats how I got the idea for the book to begin with - the meshing of several plots, themes, etc from other books. But I don't mind this terribly, because I still have quite a bit of work to do on the characters and world building. I'm thinking of entering NaNoWriMo this year. Get all the outlining, characters, etc done and then hopefully zoom through the new first draft in November. Here's hoping I actually sign up!

For you writers out there - how do you get through plot holes? Have you ever had to do a major rewrite? How did you get past the old plot and work out a new one?

On Sunday I finally admitted to myself why I hadn't done any transcribing of my WIP for a week.

I finally said aloud that my main character, Bertrand, was too perfect.

He grew up in an upper middle class loving family with supportive parents and best friends for sisters. Perfectly shy but still friendly, with everyone from the stable boy to the freaking King wanting to be his friend. He makes strong lasting friendships that border on reverence, tells his secrets to only the ones who would never reveal them, and somehow always knows exactly the right thing to do at the right time.

But who wants to read about a seventeen year old guy who's the final word in morality?

So I needed to go back and basically rewrite the whole damn thing. I didn't want to, not because of the work, but because, well... I didn't want to admit that my first draft wasn't brilliant. Yeah, I knew a few revisions and edits would be inevitable, but deep down I knew. I knew I actually thought this story would be a Masterpiece, the Next Big Thing since Harry Potter or Twilight.

The first step is admitting you have a problem.

However, I still didn't want to actually restart. I needed an incentive. I needed something to make the medicine of reality taste just a little bit sweeter. Which could very conveniently be found in my freezer.

And that made it so much easier. Sugar can make any difficult task so much more enjoyable. I've been really getting some work done, and I feel cautiously confident in my new draft. I'm back at my early morning routine, feeling out the character revisions and getting to know the "new and improved" Bertrand. I'm so happy writing again too - I feel like my life had gone all wacky and lopsided the week I didn't do any writing work, and now its all okay

I haven't blogged in a while, and neither have I written. My WIP sat languishing in its journals, no words typed in the computer for the last week. At first I thought I had just burnt myself out during #wordathon, an awesome Twitter hashtag that pushes writers to get words out or edit the ones they had already written. But then yesterday it dawned on me, horribly and with little warning.

There were major problems with my plot. And my characters.

I became extremely discouraged, scared that the work I had done was for nothing, that I would have to abandon this story because there was no way for it to work. But with some great encouragement from the #amwriting tweeps, I found the problem that, when fixed, would strengthen my novel as a whole. It was my Main Character, and even some of the others as well. Some were too perfect, dull and lifeless. Yes, they were probably people I had met or would meet in my life, people who generally seem to have a good, cheerful life. But who wants to read about them? I need to give my MC, and a few of the lesser protagonists, difficulties beyond the external ones they face in the story. So I began working up a new personality for the MC last night, and vowed to myself I would return to my daily writing schedule: wake up at 7:30am, take ADD meds, get coffee, check Twitter, then once I felt the meds and coffee kick in, start writing.

But that wasn't how it happened. My husband let the cat out of her room, so as soon as I opened my bedroom door she was behind me, trying to climb up my legs. The coffee pot has a sizable crack along its side. I find this out by the water pouring out the wrong end. Thankfully, I have a spare coffee maker. Only we're out of filters. I go to Walgreens. I get back, let my three dogs in, feed the cat on the dining room table, the highest she can go to get away from the dogs. Only Pepper, the middle dog, has learned how to jump from window sill to chair to table, and has been eating the kittens food when I shut myself in my office. I let the cat into my office and feed her there. Then she thinks its okay to suckle my lip while kneading my boobs, neck and face with her claws. And she wouldn't stop, even with reprimanding her with the spray bottle. I have 10 claw marks, just from today, one of them pretty deep. Then I try calling my husband at work, only his phone is turned off. And when he does finally call me back, its with bad new about our impending move to New York City. Or rather, its no longer in our foreseeable future. Crap.

I'm depressed. My New York dream may never happen, because I was stupid and insisted we buy a house only a year after our marriage. I'm only 23 for f*cks sake! I'm a drifter, I like to move, travel, see new places. But no. I had to buy into the "American Dream" and that we could afford the mortgage on a house so early on was bait. Now we're stuck. I'm pissed at myself. I'm so unhappy. We both hate Texas heat, but yet we're still here. I feel trapped, and we can't sell the house yet because part of the roof needs to be fixed, there are drill wholes needing to be filled, carpet to replace, etc etc etc. Even if we can fix the broken stuff and sell the house, we can't do that until the end of next summer, because we'll lose money. And with the expenses of fixing and selling the house, we won't be able to afford moving.

I'm sorry. I know I'm ranting. My husband, whom I love for trying, always comes off blasé about, well, anything. He's really even tempered, which makes me feel like a complete *ss whenever I get bent out of shape about this stuff. And with all this happening on the day I was supposed to luxuriate in my writing, I can't concentrate anymore. I don't even remember what I've been thinking about the last few hours. My day is ruined, and I hate being depressed. I want to cry. I can't even write it away.

It seems all so simple, but I guess sometimes simplicity makes us overlook certain options.

Yesterday, and for the last week, I'd been having trouble wanting to work on transcribing and revising/ editing my WIP. I found all kinds of distractions, but always the nagging voice of my tired muse would remind me that I should be typing. But I didn't want to. I became lethargic, uncaring and even a little angry, both at myself and my muse. Somehow nothing I typed seemed right, new words even less so. I didn't even want to blog, thats how bad it was. And it felt like cheating if I tweeted. But then I realized the root of my guilt for not wanting to write.

I was MAKING myself feel guilty.

Everyone needs a break now and then, and its encouraged between drafts for authors. It gives us space and objectivity, coming at it fresh and ready to pounce on the words, scenes or even characters that are unnecessary. My muse was making me feel guilty because I hadn't given her permission for a breather, so she kept badgering me even though she was in no shape to go on.

I needed to explain to myself and my muse that ITS OKAY TO RELAX.

And we did. I started rereading Hunger Games, so I can fully appreciate Catching Fire. I let myself enjoy playing some online games, and went to sleep early. And do you know what? IT FELT GREAT. I woke up excited to write again, eager to get to my journal and laptop and fix the scene I needed to change. I was still groggy, but I made my coffee, hurriedly fed and watered Office Kitteh, Window Doggeh, Begging Doggeh, and Afraid of Office Kitteh Doggeh, and rushed out to my writing cave in the garage. And I'm HAPPY. Cheerful, even.

I've also decided that I'll stop working at 1pm, and read, play games, watch TV, anything I want to do so long as its relaxing. This way, I hopefully won't fall into the pit of "meh" like before.

Nothing horrific has happened- no deaths, no accidents, nothing bad.

I'm just not feeling it.

Every day for the past week or so it takes SO MUCH out of me to get just 1,000 words transcribed. I daydream, play games online, chat on twitter, and do various mindless activities. I haven't even blogged for a whole week, and I know its because the words aren't coming. Its difficult to make myself type this now, but I want to because you, my readers, are wondering what the hell happened to me. Or not, but I'm pretending you guys are concerned.

I'm guessing I didn't take a big enough break between my pre first draft in longhand to transcribing my WIP to my MacBook. I only read one book (which was amazing) before starting to type up the words. That may or may not be the culprit, or it could be the late nights of game playing, or just plain restlessness. I'm worried I may kill my muse if I work her too hard, but I don't want to give up.

I think I need a vacation. I don't work, so I mean I just wanna go to a different location other than my hometown. A Writers Retreat, if you will, even if its just me. Even if I don't actually get much writing done, I think the change of scenery and pace will really help me out.

But for now, I sit at my desk, doing this:

Earlier last week I finished my pre first draft of my first WIP, which you can read about here. So anyways, I took half a days break before it called me back, needing me to fix all the extremely awkward parts. So I returned, eager to clean up the decidedly trashed bits. I've finished the first two chapters, a few times merging scenes that themselves took too long, tightening up dialogue or description, and general maintenance.

The hard part for me is seeing how, well, bad my writing was when I started longhanding. Because I couldn't go back and tweak each and every sentence as a better version came to me, it forced me to keep moving forward. It's also making me realize that the first draft of any novel can be VERY ugly. I'm trying not to mind it, knowing it was just the bones of the story and soldiering my way through it. But to be honest, it stings a bit, seeing these choppy, unsavory sentences even as I work to make them a little less painful.

The first day was especially difficult, partly because I was mixing the original beginning with the next major scene in order to maintain the flow, but mainly it was the sentence structure that stuck out to me. I kept doing double takes at the words written in my journal, surprised to see that I wasn't as beautifully natural a writer as I thought. Well, not when I'm trying to catch up with a Muse that's two scenes ahead, anyways. It took me that night and half the following morning to reconcile myself with the idea that, yes, the first draft will ALWAYS, invariably, suck. Yes, there will be some awesome passages, and I may tear up at the gorgeousness of a scene as I write it.

But every time I go back to type out my WIP, I HAVE to brace myself against the possible disasters I may encounter when I transcribe, revise, edit. Its the only way to make it all better. Not perfect, but better. And that gives me hope. I hack away at the words with determination and zeal, rearranging them or tossing them as I see fit until my writers voice is truly present and my characters fully formed.

So, I think of the immense sense of accomplishment I will feel when I'm ready to start querying for a literary agent, the optimistic confidence in that I had done all I could without the guidance of one. Even if the manuscript doesn't catch the eye of an agent, I will know that I put in all this work to hone my craft, learn who I am as a writer, and grow as a person. It makes me proud of myself, determined to fulfill that feeling in the future, time and time again.

How do you get inspired to return to your own editing and revisions?