As Good As It Can Be — Seeing Your Novel All the Way Through

This week in my publishing class, when talking about the relationship between editors and authors, my professor said, "A good editor will push an author do another rewrite when the author thinks they just don't have another rewrite in them." Spoken by a venerable veteran of the publishing industry, who also happens to be a well respected author, I instantly related this to my revision process with my current novel.

I am currently in my second round of revision with my mentor, and as I think about the remaining three revisions I will have to do, I know that part of me worries whether I will have it in me to get them all done in the next two months, and if I will do them well. The vast amount of revision needed to take a manuscript from a first draft to the final draft can be quite large. And while I can't say that I know just how much time my manuscript will need, my professor's statement really made me think about the hard work it takes to make your book the best book it can be.

On Friday of this week, I also took a research trip to down Connecticut to visit the children's literature archive where all of the original materials for the book Tuck Everlasting are held. There, I got to go through the original, early manuscripts of Natalie Babbitt's work, correspondence between her and a myriad of people, as well as all of the publicity, reviews, and other materials for her various books. One document I read that really stood out to my writerly self was a note from her editor that said something to the effect of, "and you thought this day would never come." Thinking about the implications of this statement, I realized that it's good to know that Natalie Babbitt struggled with waiting, or the long process of revising, or just the vulnerability that comes with trying to put your work out there. And this author, whose work I really admire, and whose work was sitting right in front of me, perhaps wasn't too different from me. 

I think in the midst of revision, or writing, or just working hard, it can be easy to lose sight of the idea that we want to make our novels the very best novels they can be — and here's the key part — no matter how what it takes. At moments, it can be easier to settle for the feelings of "right now".  Right now, I wonder why my novel can't just be good enough as it is? And right now, I don't really want to cut this portion or reconceptualize that section. And right now, I just don't know how much longer I can take writing and rewriting and revising the same piece of work. But despite these feelings, the truth is that you don't really want to put out a novel that is just "okay". You want to put out a novel that you are proud of, and a novel that tells your story in the very best way possible.

It's pretty great to see that one of my favorite novels had to go through several rounds of revision. And that she mapped out her chronology, and changed her characters name more than once, and wrote ideas in the margins, and crossed things out, and all of the other things that I, and the rest of us writers, do on a daily basis. We're all going through the same frustrating process filled with hard work, anxiety, perhaps some tears, and definitely a whole lot of time. But at least I'm not the only one who feels that it's tough sometimes, and I'm not the only one who struggles to think that I have more in me for this rewrite or the next.

Writing is not always a glamorous art. Maybe the actual process might never seem glamorous to some. But we're all going through the same thing. And hearing my professor talk about her struggles, and seeing Natalie's right there on the page in front of me, it reminds me that hopefully, in the end, I might just come out with something beautiful.

Wednesday's Writing Prompt — Fall

Develop a setting that incorporates the fall season. You can place your character in an apple orchard, on a hay ride, or simply have them noticing the trees outside their window. 

Now place your character within the scenery you've created. How does she interact with it? What effects does it have on her? Are their memories attached to her surroundings, or this specific season? Is she wishing for the past or welcoming the change openly? How your characters feel can greatly affect how a setting is described. Think about the ways in which your character's internal thoughts are projected onto the scenery around her. 

Keeping Your Character's Secrets —What to Say, and What Not to Say

Just like real, everyday people, each and every character has an internal world and an external world. One of the great qualities of the novel is that the wall between the internal and external can be broken down, and we, the readers, get to peek inside the internal world of a character in the way that we can never do in real life: we actually get to see inside their heads. We feel like we are getting to know all their thoughts, but really, we are only seeing all the thoughts that the author allows us to see.

This is where my blog post picks up this week: thinking about the question what thoughts of my protagonist should I allow the reader to have access to, and what thoughts should be kept secret? The weight of this question is also augmented by the fact that at the start of my novel, my protagonist is also keeping a secret from those around him. And not only is he keeping a secret, but he is also trying to resist the truth himself.

As I've continued my revision this week, I've run into many sections within the manuscript where I've thought, "He doesn't need to say this," and deleted a sentence or two. Mostly because these thoughts have been 1) obvious and something the reader can glean from the exposition and/or his actions, or 2) too mature/analytical for the narrative moment that he finds himself in. I think I should pause for a moment here and say that my story is also being told in the first person voice. This POV greatly informs my questions of what to reveal and what to keep secret because it is ultimately my character who is talking about himself. There is no omniscient or close third narrator who has some level of detachment or even investment in getting or protecting the whole truth of the story. This is Carter's story, being told by Carter. And much like you and I are very selective in the truths we tell, or perhaps more accurately, how we frame those truths, it becomes a significant concern for me as the author to achieve an authenticity in the voice and revelations of my character.

It's not so much that he wouldn't or doesn't think a specific thought, but it becomes a question of what should be said and when a thought should be said. A thought he might reveal at the end of my book, when he is more self-aware and coming to accept more of his limitations might feel very out of place at the beginning of the novel. Similarly, while he reveals his feelings to one of his friends, I need to make sure that the spoken words are an appropriate reflection of a thirteen-to-fourteen year old boy's emotional depth, instead of perhaps something deeply profound that I would love to have my character say.

Finding the appropriate balance between expressed and unstated thoughts begins with an awareness of just who your character is, and also, how your character's secrets affect the overall arch of the story. I know that my novel would be vastly different if Carter were willing to proclaim his secret to the world on page one. Secrets are often very important to the plot and the motivations of your character, and they can be a great way to keep your reader turning the page. But in keeping secrets from your reader, however big or small, you want to make sure to give them enough of an emotional connection with your character so that they care about him, and want him to achieve whatever he is after.

When working around secrets and your character's hidden thoughts, you also want to make sure to keep your character believable. So while you must always remember that your characters have secrets and needs and fears and desires, you always want to remind yourself that they're not always going to be talking about them. Walking the line between providing some sense of that protective self-awareness as well as a willingness to be open thus becomes even more important, particularly when working with a first person narration.

We all have certain things that we want to hide, or a desire to say other things that might not reflect the whole, complete truth. This is an important aspect of developing compelling characters. But as the author, it is your job to figure out exactly what needs to be said and what should be kept behind the curtain. And like most other things in the revision process, there is no formula for exactly how to do this. But one good tip to remember: just like the rest of us real-life characters, your characters aren't as self-aware as you'd like them to be.

Wednesday's Writing Prompt — Baking

Place your character in the kitchen, ready to bake a cake or dessert of your choice. What is the occasion? How much time does he have? Is he following a recipe? Does he know how to bake? Now have something go wrong. Perhaps adding the wrong ingredients or setting off the smoke detector. What is your character's response?

Then, have a second thing go wrong. How does he respond now? Is he alone in the kitchen? Is he trying to surprise someone or impress another? Think about the emotions behind your character's baking struggles. Is there something else going on that just makes him too distracted to focus, or is it another emotion tied to the process like loss, frustration, or expectation?

Save or Delete? Revising and Rewriting

This week started my first intensive week of revision for my manuscript, and while I had definitely anticipated this time for quite a while, I didn't fully know what to expect. Just as each project is different, so, too, is the revision process. Sometimes you start in the beginning and work your way through, while other times you might work backwards or pick a certain element to revise throughout your work. For this initial revision, I am focusing on the first third of the novel: tightening, cutting, and just getting to the main action of the novel sooner. I've also been adding a few scenes, too.  

One of the best pieces of advice my mentor gave me was that my reader is more interested in seeing the interactions between the kids as opposed to the interactions between my protagonist and the adults around him. From this, I’ve been able to reconceptualize just what are the most interesting scenes in the first third of the novel, and what might come off as a little less interesting. 

But in all of this, I've found myself asking the question, "Should I cut this? Or should I keep it?" I've definitely cut a lot of material — entire scenes even. Despite the initial feeling that I had worked so hard on these scenes and conceptualized the story so specifically, I really find the deletion process pretty easy. I'm ruthless, you might say. So far I've cut out about forty-five pages out of entire manuscript. But when it comes to material that isn't part of a strictly prolonged child-to-adult scene, or backstory that we don't actually have to see playing out, the line between what should be saved and what should be thrown out becomes a bit more blurry. What happens to those really great sentences that just don’t seem to fit in anymore? And the piece of dialogue that is so great but needs to be changed based on the changes to the scene above? 

Most of the time the answer is that I have to let them go. Maybe try to store them in the back of my brain for another time. But sometimes, I’ve found ways to repurpose ideas, moving a snippet of dialogue down into the next scene, or simply reorganizing paragraphs to make things work. Knowing when and what to delete or keep is really a case by case call that only you, the author, can make. There is no rule or equation that gives us all the right answers or even a guarantee that this new way of writing a scene was better than the old. 

In determining exactly what material to delete, I think an important step in the process is first deciding how you want the story to read, and exactly what element of revision you are going to work on first. For example, in my revisions, I am really trying to streamline the action and plunge the reader right into the heart of the conflict. So I’ve taken out a lot of exposition that led up to this conflict. If I hadn’t know exactly what my goal for the revision was, it would have been a lot harder to make the necessary judgment call.  Going in with a clear idea of what you are trying to accomplish can help tremendously.

Luckily this also isn’t the only revision pass I’ll do. So I don’t have to feel that this is my only chance.  If I don’t make it perfect this time, there are still plenty of opportunities to work on it. Trying to tackle every revision element at once becomes way too overwhelming anyway. But I also make sure to keep a copy of the previous draft, so that in the event that I cut something that I might want to bring back later, I have it saved, and ready to go. 

So for this revision period, I just need to keep my goals in mind and keep crossing things off my list. With one week left before I turn my manuscript back over to my editor, I feel like I'm in an okay place, though there is still a lot left to be done. Hopefully I can achieve all the things on my list this time, and make a whole different one the next! 

I'm off to go work now. Happy writing! 

Wednesday's Writing Prompt — First Day of School

It's the first day of school, and your character is just about the walk through the school doors when someone runs over to stop him. Who is it? What does he say? Is it someone your character knows? Are they delivering good news or bad? How does your character respond? Does he ignore this person and continue into school, or does he listen to the unexpected visitor? How does this change your story?

This could also be something that happened in the past: a memory that was instrumental in leading your character to where he is today. Think about the consequences of your character's choice, either in the present moment, or as an important moment for backstory.

The Anxiety of Waiting — Receiving My First Editorial Letter

Hello, blog! After a nice vacation, I am back and ready to work on my manuscript again. It was awesome to have some time to rest and give my mind a little break from my writing. But it is also nice to be back and writing for you all, again :)

My vacation to Costa Rica to visit my wonderful friend was lots of fun and provided some good rest from the intense amount of writing I had been doing over the summer. But, my vacation was also restful because it coincided with my first manuscript turnover to my editor/mentor for the semester. Right before I left, I officially handed in my manuscript, meaning that even if I had stayed at home, I would have had a week without my manuscript while my mentor did his first critique. So what that really means is that if I hadn't been away, I would have been waiting anxiously to receive my first set of feedback as the days passed by.

Well, even though I was out of the country and greatly enjoying my trip, I have to admit that I was still anxious about my fast-approaching editorial letter. Actually, I don't think I realized just how anxious I had been until after I received the letter on Friday. But at least the trip provided a good distraction and the reminder that things were out of my hands. All I had to do was wait for Stephen to send me his comments. So I waited. Trying not to anticipate what he would say, but rather just keep my mind open to receive whatever feedback might be coming, and to trust that my work was still as strong as I had felt it was when I turned it over.

So, I am happy to report that after receiving my very first editorial letter, there is much work to do, but also much encouragement to be found. Phrases like "impressed" and "very much like" and "firm grasp of the fundamental skills" were used — all of which made me smile, but more importantly made me excited about the revision and the upcoming hard work. I think one of the things I was most anxious about what that my mentor would either 1) not like the story and therefore want me to completely redo things, or 2) feel that my skills and my manuscript were not strong, and just lacking overall. Neither seemed to be true, and while there are very specific issues with the manuscript, and lots of revision to be done, I was quite pleased to find the encouragement within the letter that helped me to set aside my anxieties.

As a writer, there will also be an inherent anxiety that comes with sharing your work with another. Particularly those in the field, like an editor or agent; and especially those who have the power to push your novel toward publication. There is really not much to do about this anxiety other than work hard and trust your product. Of course, we all have this anxiety to varying degrees and at different times, but for me, I think it comes first in the initial blind read, when someone knows nothing about the manuscript or section, and it deciding if they like it for the very first time.

In the past, I had always workshopped portions of a piece rather than presented a complete manuscript for critique. So the idea that he might not like the whole thing, or that a revision would be so large, seemed overwhelming to me.  But now, while the revisions I am tackling in the next two weeks are certainly not small, I don't feel quite so frightened. I feel ready to make my novel better; ready for the hard work that will hopefully bring my manuscript to a place ready and worthy of publication.
 
One thing that really stuck out to me in my editorial letter was this sentence: "We have a limited amount of time and good work to do. So let's start." The fact that it said "good work," and not just "work" reminded me of just what I wanted to achieve. I want to achieve "good work" and ultimately a good manuscript. I want to work hard to make my craft better and my novel one that people would want. But to get there, to make anything good, I have to do the work. We all have to do the work. And part of the work involved critique. Honest critique.

I'm not saying that I won't once again be anxious when it comes to a future turnover, or when I send it to agents. And I don't think that anxiety is entirely bad, either. It means that I want this — this whole writerly thing we're doing. But at least for right now, I feel good about the good work I have to do, and commitment I have to make to get there. This fall semester is looking extremely hard, but in the end, one day, I know all this work will be worth it.