Beyond the Delete Button — Revisions and Its Many Facets

When I think of revision, I think about cutting back – deleting sentences, shortening word count, streamlining the plot, making the story as tight as possible. But revision isn't only about cutting. It's about consistency, language, conflict, character, and congruency. And many of these qualities involved adding to the story in addition to taking away. 

This is what I've been working on this week: adding to my story. Writing new bits of dialogue, new scenes, new details. And so far, it hasn't been too bad. But that's because I've left the hardest parts for last. See, I have this big, long checklist of revisions I have to make to my novel. It's nine pages long actually. But after about a week of work, I am very happy to say I have successfully crossed off at least half of those bullets. Perhaps more like two-thirds even. But the remaining third holds the harder bullets. The things that my brain hasn't quite come up with a solution for yet. 

One of my problems is that I need to introduce one of my characters earlier — the king. The reader knows about him from the beginning, and gathers lot of information about him along the way through the dialogue of others and general exposition (for if a story has a king, he is inevitably known about on some level). But these methods are more indirect. The reader doesn't get to see the king directly; she's not forming a judgment based on her experience of watching the king, but only through the perspective of others characters. 

So I need to insert the king into earlier scenes. I need to allow the reader to see who he is, so that later, when he plays a pivotal role in the action, my readers have a strong background that will contribute to the reading of his actions. The reader needs a foundation; a preparedness of sorts for the moment when the king becomes important. 

This has not been the easiest of tasks for me, hence why I've left it for the end of this revision cycle. But it's something I must tackle this week, for sure. And here are some of the ways I plan on doing so: 

• Making a timeline. Having a succint visual of all that happens in the story allows me to see a map of the storyline that isn't spread out over almost three hundred pages. Viewing scenes side by side, I then have a better idea of the gaps that exist, the breaks in the action, and the scenes where I can insert key moment to expand my reader's understanding of my character.

• Character maps. I am sure this could be a called a wide array of things, and that this term might actually mean different things to different people. But basically, I am going to track all the scenes where he appears throughout my novel, and what he reveals in those scene, or how each of his appearances function. Then, I came see a collective picture of what I have revealed to the reader, helping me see both the strengths and weakness of his presentation within the narrative. 

• Establishing character goals. What do I want the reader to know about the king? What expectations have I inherently established through the indirect descriptions of him, and how does his presence deliver (or not deliver) on these? Knowing how I want him to appear is half the battle. Then I actually have something to compare the represented character against the intended character. 

In the end, revision isn't just about cutting. I know my strategy for dealing with the king may leave me with more work to do in the end, but coming up with a game plan is half the battle, and it brings me that much closer to the polished work I am hoping to achieve. 

Revision is about looking at the big picture and seeing how each little details fits, making sure that everything within the story adds to the quality rather than subtracts. And revision looks as different from day to day as it does from project to project. So as I cut and add and map out characters, I am going to continue to take it step by step, and try remember that in the end, thinking and mapping and planning and adding all have their place. All of the work matters. 

An Archeological Dig — Revision and Its Many Stages

This week, I read Gobsmacked! by my formed mentor Stephen Roxburgh. A wonderful piece about Roald Dahl and their time working together, Stephen illuminates how they worked through the revision process, and the various rounds and ongoing discussions had they regarding certain ideas, story structure, characters, and the like.

Not only is it a delightful read, but Gobsmacked! is a good reminder of the ways the revision process evolves over time. As Stephen writes, much "like a archeological dig. You start moving big things, but in the end, you focus on the smallest details." This is something I certainly know is true from my time working with Stephen, and is a truth I was reminded of again as I moved into the second round of my revision process.

Entering the second stage of revision, I was glad both to finish round one, as it is a mark of tangible progress, while also welcoming a change in revision style. In round one, I worked through the manuscript chronologically, identifying larger character and plot concerns, as well as heavily refining my language and deleting unnecessary sentences and/or paragraphs. In round two, however, I am tackling my list of more conceptual problems. Dealing with more minute but wholly significant character inconsistencies, missing pieces, the need for more interactions, and many other problems that require a creative type of problem solving.

At times I feel as if I am looking a piece of wood that needs to be carved to just the right shape in order to fit into the puzzle. I have certain revision points in which I need to actively figure out how best to address the problem that exists — to change things, or manipulate, to reimagine a character and come up with a unique but consistent resolution that fits into the larger whole of the story.

This revision cycle also requires that I work out of order, extracting disparate pieces from my story and looking at them side by side, even though they might be hundreds of pages apart. Jumping around from section to section, I need to make sure that if I change a detail on page 16, that what happens on page 108 and 208 also change accordingly.

This is a round where all the pieces matter together, individually and in relationship to each other; where I have to think more strategically, in terms of the greater whole — because truly in the end, it is the details that matter and the details that could pull a story apart.

So as I continue through this revision cycle and into the next, I welcome the changes that occur and the variant styles I must employ in order to make it all work. And of course, it is always helpful to hear the words of an expert, and remember that even the most brilliant literary minds go through a process of trying, and reworking, and digging through the dirt.

Visualizing — Seeing and Creating A World, And the Fun You Can Have Doing That

Last week, my friend Richard asked me a really good question. He said, " When you're writing, how much do you visualize? Do you see the things happening in your mind, and how much do you know about what your characters look like?" This was a really great question, because even though I definitely do this, I hadn't really spent to much time contemplating how or why I visualize. So I started thinking about this, and of course, here's my blog post about it!

My answer to Richard was the I visualize differently for different things. For example, I know I pay a lot of attention to the way characters move and what they express in their body language. So I often find myself acting out hand movements or different expressions in my room, trying to break down just how to catpure that head tilt or hand gesture or facial expression in my text. But when it comes to the faces of the characters themselves, meaning what they look like exactly, it isn't quite the same for me.

Explaining this to Richard, I realized that while of course I know what my characters look like in terms of basic characteristics, general size, key descriptive markers, and all of their mannerisms, I don't have a crystal clear image of their face in my head. Mostly I know how they move. I see them acting out these situations, and in my mind I am often even looking at them head on, rather than just through their eyes. But still, the face isn't perfectly clear. Funny, right? I'm not sure. My characters aren't modeled after someone I know, and I don't work from a picture or prototype of sorts. So if I had to cast a person to play my character in a movie, I think I'd know when I found her. But right now, I am not quite positive exactly what she looks like.

Another thing I spend a lot of time visualizing is the surroundings. Not every detail of every part of the world, but all the immediate places that my character resides. For my current project, I have put a lot of time and description into making the library a real, tangible place for the reader, because as my characters go there again and again, I want the reader to feel as if he is right there with them — sitting on the seat cushion, climbing the stairs, admiring the enormous bookshelves with heavy, fancy books on them. Similarly, the city square becomes an important locale in my novel. So of course, I spent a lot of time visualizing just what it would look like, but beyond that also what it felt like. The smells, the sounds, how fast people walk, the feel of the cobblestones, the layout of the plaza. I guess I spend the most time visualizing place (in addition to body language), because to me, as a reader walks beside my character, I want him to feel as though he is actually beside her, understanding and taking in each new detail as she does.

Currently, as I am in the last stretch of writing my novel, my character has finally embarked on the journey the whole narrative has been leading up to (Yay!). As of last night, she's in the woods. Literally. So again, to evoke feeling, I want to spend a lot of time visualizing just what the woods looks like. Not necessarily every aspect of the woods, but the immediate details of how she visualizes
It's funny. Much like I don't exactly know what my character's faces look like, I don't fully know
It's like I'm in a tunnel, and all I can see is what is immediately around me. But that's okay. Those are the things I need. The sensory description that will put you right there with her.

Of course, I can jump out of said tunnel to look down over the landscape and know where everything is in relation to each other and how large the wood is (which I have done because I made extensive maps for this project before I started), but what I visualize, what I see when I am writing are only the details of the present moment.

And this can be fun. It's engrossing. The way my reader would be feeling present in the moment, so am I. Though I often change my mind and swap details that can perhaps change the setting substantially, I am still right there in it. Only now, instead of tall, looming trees, I am seeing shorter ones, with branches that stick out and pull your hair. Or, in the new town she's about to arrive in, the houses are clustered in a flat open area. They're actually situated right among the trees.

But that's okay. Because visualizing helped me realize what the most interesting setting looks like and the problems inherent in movement and place that I might not otherwise realize. Visualization is a key tool for novel writing, or any writing really. It may look different for you and me, or it may look different even within my own process. But it is important, and beyond that, it allows you the experience of being a reader to your own writing — throwing yourself so deeply into the world that it is almost as if you are just a traveller, there to take some pictures, and record your findings.

You Don't Have To Be An Illustrator — The Importance of Creating Visuals When Building A World

Creating a new, fictional world requires a lot of planning: outlines, lists, brainstorming, and character sketches. But one thing I've also found to be very helpful for my new novel is the creation of maps! Maps have been crucial for me to visualize and better understand the world that I am creating — and especially helpful in keeping things straight.

Much like the benefits of outlining your novel before you start, visual representations of your fictional world truly add a lot to an author's ability to conceptualize the story before you really dive into writing. But for me, these maps have been particularly helpful during the writing process itself. Of course, I am not talking about full-color, picture book ready images here. But the more I have gotten into my story, the more detailed my maps and pictures become.

Regardless of what your visuals actually look like, the first benefit of these artistic representations is your heightened ability to visualize what your character is actually seeing. When you first determine the spatial relations of things such as a castle, the size of a city, or of an important room within the story, you then have a better sense of just how long it might take your character to get from one side of the city to another; or just where that secret key should be placed within the room so it is just above eye level. The more I understand the world in which my characters inhabit, the better descriptions and details I will be able to provide. And the better descriptions present within the text, the more my reader will ultimately be able to visualize the world herself.

Not only do these kinds of illustrated aids help me better visualize my characters' world, but they also allow me to keep my story consistent throughout the narrative. If your character only walks down a certain street once somewhere in the first third of your novel, and then, in the last third, you want to have her walk down the same street but head in a different direction it can be easy to forget if she originally went to the left or to the right. So, instead of constantly having to flip back through my pages to uncover this little but important detail, or having to flip through to find many of the other such details present in your book, referring to the map that you've created can be a great help. Not only does it provide consistency, which is definitely a key component of world building, but it also saves you a lot of hassle. It's easy to refer to the map of the square, or the palace, or the kingdom itself in order to make sure I am accurately describing the placement of a certain landmark in relation to another, or how a character would get from one place to another.

One trick that I've found to help me keep things straight as I work through my novel and refer to my variety of maps I've created is the use of cardinal directions, meaning north, south, east, and west. By placing a small compass rose in the corner of my visuals, I've been able to easily understand where everything is geographically and most importantly where things are in relation to one another. In terms of consistency this becomes highly important. Although I do have one map representing the entire world of the story, when I am working on both creating and writing about specific locations such as the castle or the city square, I want to make sure it all lines up correctly. Much like I need to make sure I know if my character took a right or a left to get to her friends house, because I know my character will be traversing the city many times throughout the story, and even go beyond the natural city limits later on in the book, I've found that using the cardinal directions has also proved helpful in remaining consistent.

Writing visually is a key component of all good novels. You want to make sure to place your reader inside your world, allowing them to get a true feel for the place. Maybe I'm not an artist, but your visuals really don't have to be. All you need is a basic sketch of your place, some labeled sections, and really, you're good to go.

These are all tools to help you understand the world better anyway. Because in the end, we're all creating something out of nothing — a place out of no place — so we want the world to be as well thought out and clearly conveyed as possible.

Outlining — The Trick to World Building

The start of a new project means a return to the stage of prep work and research, note taking and just general brainstorming. But this time, as I dive into my novel, I've also incorporated extensive outlining in the early stages of my writing. A divergence from my normal practices, I've found outline to be extremely helpful, going far beyond what I expected and opening up lots of new ideas.

Typically, or, for my past three works, I didn't really do any outlining at all — not in the sense of a chronological, written down game plan of all the things that would happen in my novel or the events I wanted to make sure to get to. My "outlining" instead took place mostly in my mind. I thought about concepts and jotted things down, and overall, had a really strong sense of my story's characters and conflicts by the time I actually started writing. I also kept a decently extensive series of lists of characters, soccer diagrams, and a time line of events. I mean, when you have a whole soccer team to keep track of and you want to make sure that one boy is not being mistake for another, or place someone in the wrong position, those types of lists become pretty important. But these came as I was writing the manuscript, rather than before.

For this project, however, as soon as I got the idea, I know it had to be different. I couldn't just think about things and then take off writing. I had to do a thorough preparation; and a preparation that was entirely different than my usual plan of attack. It's funny how projects can mandate such different approaches, as if the idea was demanding to be treated differently and I just had to acquiesce. But that's what happened, and so, I began my outline. And man, has this outline been helpful!

I still did plenty of mental prep work in which I thought about major questions, characters, conflicts, and the story arc. But when I actually began outlining, I realized just how much this project, or really me — the writer of this story — needs an outline. It has helped me to see the greater story while also narrowing in on important little details and weaving them through the narrative. Because I know exactly (or presumably) what will happen in chapter ten, I am able to write a better chapter one, because I know where the story is going, and just what the reader needs to be aware of from the beginning.

To be honest, my new manuscript is a bit of a divergence from my regular ideas. I am entering into a world of fairy tale, and fantasy, and as such, the presence of an outline helps me to feel more comfortable. I think I need to know more about the plot with this novel, because fairy tales have certain conventions, and building a world that is so different from our own requires a new type of work from me. After talking to my new and truly fantastic mentor for the spring semester, Ms. Lauren Wohl, I was affirmed in my outlining process, particularly for this type of novel. Lauren said that with world building, the details and nuances of a society become more complicated, and outlining, as well as listing and diagraming and even drawing maps can help you build a world that is consistent and most importantly understandable for your reader.

She also mentioned that Walter Dean Myers outlines so meticulously, and with such extensive detail that when it comes time to write the manuscript, he is basically just typing, just connecting all the dots, as his outline is truly the draft of his novel. And not to say that we all have to create such a robust outline, but in many ways, outlining creates the foundation for a novel. It is like a map you draw for yourself to work your way through your novel, and ultimately arrive in your destination of choice.

Outlining has helped me have a clearer picture of my story, and where all the pertinent information needs to be inserted, and what that pertinent information even is at all. It's also inspired new creativity, as while I am working on one section, I often get a brilliant idea for a previous one, or one yet to come.

So perhaps I will continue outlining for every story I write. Who knows? But truly, I love it! Outlining has definitely helped me and I've only just begun.

Writing Out of Order

One of the most common questions I've been asked lately is, "Do you write in order?" Start to finish? Chronologically? Middle or ending first? Perhaps it was starting the blog that prompted these questions or, simply answering the common question of "What have you been doing this summer?" with "Mostly writing," but people seem to be curious, specifically regarding the sequencing of my writing process. Let me preface this by saying I don't think my, or your, answer to this question provides the answer as to how everyone should write, as we all have different processes. I think it's important to work however is best for you. But for me, the answer is that while I mostly write in order, writing out of order is an important part of my writing process, and often opens up unexpected doors that might otherwise remain closed.

Leaving order behind first comes into play when I first start to build an idea. I'm definitely not someone who has to have the exact ending in place before I begin writing, but I do consider the overall arc of the storyline, as thinking about the big picture becomes really important when deciding questions that will affect the entirety of your novel. For an idea to be good (at least a basic level), it must have a sustainable conflict that carries the reader throughout the story. And the only way to make sure it does, it to think in terms of the big picture. Whether plot-driven or character-driven, he premise of a book always has to be something that carries the reader forward, from the beginning to end, without seeming too small or too big, too boring or too fantastic. Therefore, thinking about all parts of the novel simultaneously and not strictly in order is an essential part of this planning.

When it comes to the actual writing part, my lack of order comes mostly when writing within specific scenes. So while I typically start at the beginning and progress through the novel alongside the storyline, I do a lot of jumping around within certain portions of the text. For example, one scene in my new novel takes place at a school dance. Entering into this scene, I knew the key points that I wanted to hit: where it starts, where/how it ends, the climatic moment, and present characters. But despite this, I was having a heck of a time getting it all down on paper. For some reason, I just couldn't figure out how to get my protagonist from the beginning to the climax to his exit from the dance. It was just killing me! So I decided to start jumping around.

First I wrote a portion of the scene's climax. Then I jumped back to the beginning of the scene. How can I get him closer to the tension? I figured out he should find his friend. For some reason that seemed to be dragging, so I jumped ahead to the moment just before the scene's climax (that I had previously written) and then doubled back to helping him locate his friend — which turned into a group of friends. But then in one of my prolonged moments of staring at the screen, I had a great idea for a portion of a conversation that was to occur the next day. So I jotted that down later on the page and then headed back to what I'd been working on, and figuring out how to get him out of the dance.

Confusing? Yes and no. Because I am staying within the confines of a particular narrative timeframe, for me, I didn't find it mentally confusing at all. Organizing these portions of the scene in the order they will ultimately fall into is also a trick that helps me keep things straight. I just leave several line breaks in between each section to indicate to me they are not yet finished or connected, and then fill in/connect portions as I jump around.

Writing out of order is a great way to break up the mental blocks that naturally occur, and still be productive amidst some struggle. I also find that it informs my writing within the current narrative moment. Writing portions or even entire later scenes gives me something to write towards, and helps to keep the characters consistent throughout the story.

There are always going to be times of struggle when you just don't know how to start or end or move a scene forward. Changing your focus and giving your mind a break allows you freedom to be creative elsewhere, and feel refreshed when you return to the difficult scene. There's no need to remain stuck when you can work on something else. For the writer, the novel is a living thing that sometimes seems to write itself, and sometimes just needs space to breathe. Maybe it's not for everyone, but I would at least encourage people to try writing out of order, at least in the moments of struggle. We don't really think in order, so why should we write in order? Try it and see what happens! Hopefully it will unlock some great ideas and provide a new type of freedom to your writing process :-)