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.

This Is the Stuff Books Are Made Of

Call me sentimental because it's graduation weekend, and mother's day (hi, Mom!), but the only thing I could think to blog about this week is this — life is full of good things that need to be appreciated, even amidst all the struggles.

That's quite a topic, you're thinking. And yes, it is! But the end of things often bring a time of reflection,  and often a little bit of nostalgia and sadness. Yet endings also let you realize just how great things have been; and how great they are.

This week, I have just been so overwhelmed by the outpouring of support, encouragement, and celebration I've received. But as I thought about it, that support is not limited to this week. It is not limited to graduation celebrations or words of congratulations. In fact, I've received support throughout my two years in grad school, and in many other times in my life (but for the sake of this post I'm going to focus on grad school). A multitude of people have helped me get through grad school, and though they may not realize it, their contributions were essential, however small they might seem to them. An email, a word of encouragement, a cheer when another assignment was completed, a "you can do it" when I felt like a I couldn't anymore — they were all important, and they were all greatly appreciated.

This week is an easy week to be appreciative. Times of celebration can make everything look good. But really, sometimes the truth is I simply do not stop to appreciate the network of encouragers I do have. In the busyness of life, I forgot that this shouldn't be taken for granted. I miss the love that's happening all around me because I'm too focused on getting myself to the goal.

But with school now over, as I bask in the tremendous amount of support I've recently received, I realize that this is the stuff I need to be cherishing. I need to soak it in. We all do. We need to relish the friendships and the laughter, this time in our lives that will never come again, and the people who are there with us as well as the people who helped get us to where we are.

All this might sound sappy, and I'm not going to lie. I can be a pretty sappy person. But for writers, this goes way beyond sentimentality. Beause this is the stuff that life is made of. And, therefore, this is the stuff that books are made of. Real relationships. Real feelings, good and bad. Complicated, co-existing emotions. Struggles. Wants. Hard work. Tears. Moments of joy followed by feelings of 'now what?' Celebrations. Encouragements. Long days. Life questions. Chasing dreams and holding loved one close. Telling people 'thank you'. Letting yourself cry in front of someone else. Trying your best when you might feel you have no idea what you're doing. And rejoicing in the love that exists all around you.

See, I may be writing this as a currently deeply grateful and hapy graduate, but I am also trying to keep my eyes wide open — to see this moment and chisel it into my mind; to lock this unique moment away in my mind to use for later. Writers not only need to observe, but writers need to live. We need to live in our moments and learn from our experience and hone all of our feelings and observations and truths and questions into our craft so that our characters are alive and our emotions are tangible.

So whoever, and wherever you are, look around. Take inventory of your life. Feel this moment. And then use it. Writing is important, but life should come first. For without it, there's really nothing to write about anyway.

The Week I Didn't Write — Or Thought I Wasn't Going To

With only a conclusion, a final proofread, and one final class to attend, I am just hours short of completing my degree. Wow. How the time flies.

This week has been a relatively easy week for me. With only one paper left to worry about, it was a low pressure week as I allowed myself ample time to outline, write here and there, and just feel the unique sense of "yes, I have to do this paper, but no, I don't actually have to freak out about it because I have time to spare and everything is totally under control."

So I also decided that I wasn't going to worry about novel either. I would take a week off from writing. I need to start my revision soon, but I also needed to give my mind some time to rest, I figured. Time would allow me perspective on my work and also the mental recouping I absolutely am in need of. But as the week went on, a funny thing began to happen. Ideas started popping up everywhere, and once they did, it was like my brain just wouldn't stop.

I read a newspaper article — therein waited a great new topic for a book. I read a blog post — it sparked the idea for a great new setting perfect for an ensemble cast of characters. I thought about my novel — and an idea here, and a line of dialogue there.  I looked back at some of my other story ideas as I contemplate what will be next project later in the summer/fall, and with each section of my notebook I read, ideas just started flowing until I had no idea which I'll choose because they all seem so appealing right now!

I was amazed. I still am, hence why I'm blogging about it. Why, on the week that I decided to really take a break, did my mind suddenly kick into wonderful, creative overdrive? Why was I constantly scrambling to get down that idea before I left for a meeting, in the midst of conversation, and right before I was about to fall asleep? Don't get me wrong. It's a welcomed experience, and certainly good for my current and future projects! But it got me thinking about why this happened. And these are the things I came up with:

First, I definitely think this is an outgrowth of the discipline of writing. For a whole year now, I've been very dedicated to two different projects. Not to say I didn't practice the discipline of writing before, but this year was different. The year might have even been one spent on overdrive in terms of my writing, but that's okay, because I truly learned just how far discipline and ambition can take me. So now, I'm used to writing rigorously. I am used to holding myself to a demanding schedule. And while I think I can afford to tone it down at times, discipline creates better writing. And it keeps my brain thinking and exploring and creating. Certainly a plus!

I also think that with the end of school comes the advent of new things. New projects, new freedom, more time to write what I want and not work on papers that might be stimulating but are not actually helping me with my novel. I've known school was coming to a close for a long time now, and that freedom was just around the corner. But now I can feel it. And I'm excited. So I guess all these ideas are bubbling to the surface because I can now actually pursue them. I can write one project while planning the next. Maybe I'll even try writing two at once (but only if I am really having an overflow of ideas happening — or on second thought, maybe not!). Regardless, I think my subconscious is responding to the imminent freedom. And again, I'll take it. It's always been to have too many ideas than too few.

Finally, as I begin to revise my most recent novel, which I love a lot, I am also looking forward to writing new things. Throughout this year in particular, I have truly discovered the benefits, and the enjoyment within revising. But for me, I think the thrill of the new idea and the writing of that project that has long awaited me still outweighs the excitement of revising. Hence my brain constantly looking forward to the next first draft somewhere down the line.

So whatever the reasons, I'll certainly take it. It feels good to know that as I finish school, I am still ready to work. I am ready to pursue my writing with just as much gusto as I had during the school year, when deadlines and requirements spurred me forward. Only now, my love of story telling can be sole my motivating factor, and I can work in my own way, on whatever I want, whenever I want! It's quite liberating, I must say. But I am certainly indebted to the schooling that has helped me to get here. And I'm really looking forward to the future :)

Fights and Explosion! What to Look Out for When Writing the Exciting Scenes

You know that moment when you've reached the moment you've been waiting for? When you've been writing toward this big scene all along and now you are there? When you know the next pages will just fly out of you because you've been thinking about them so long? When the scene is so filled with emotion that you have to chase down your words because you brain is thinking faster and jumping around quicker than your fingers can type? That's where I was this weekend. One of the few and far between times when writing isn't just amazingly easy but it's also truly exhilerating. And now we can all collectively sigh, as we all think if only it could be like that all the time.

The reality is that exciting writing moments such is this don't occur often even though, man, they feel good. As I saw on my friend Peter's facebook post this week, most of the time we all just need to keep our butts in the chair until we produce that pages we need. But occasionally we hit the lucky moment of one of those rapid scenes where somewhere you magically just know what the characters say and think and move and do.

So what do we do when we reach these moments? I mean, obvious answer is we go with them, and enjoy them greatly. But what do we have to make sure not to miss? And in what ways can we elevate the scene to an even greater level?

Here are some things I think we should look out for. These are important all the time really, but especially in the most exciting scenes, and particularly those that are pivotal to the plot.

• Consistency of character. In our excitement, sometimes we come up with that great line and think of our future reader just being so in awesome of that witty line or poignant sentence. But the truth is if it doesn't work within who you are character is and what he consistently says or does, unforunately, it's got to go.

• Including important details. Sometimes in the heat of the moment, we forget to mention the little ticks and details that make the scene so tangible. Adding just one small fact such as the color of a shirt or a reference to a character's unique mannerism, or even inserting a subtle clue into the dialogue can make all the difference. Not only does it make the scene exciting, but it keeps it memorable. It makes it matter more.

• Watch your pacing. Pacing is a huge part of story writing, and often something that can be hard to figure out. When the pacing picks up in the exciting scenes, one thing to be careful of is that while you want it to be an accelerated pace in comparison take the time to help your reader understand exactly what is going on here — how the characters are feeling. Conversely, you want to make sure your scene isn't too slow. It still needs a decent clip to it. Rereading your scene with fresh eyes after a day or two can often help you evaluate this more clearly.

• Pay attention to what isn't be said (or isn't being done). So often, we focus on what characters say and the movements a character does. I think part of that comes from the fear that we want our readers to understand our message. We don't want to make it too subtle that they miss something. But what a character refuses to say or do speaks volumes. The secrets they keep are just as important as the words they reveal. Such secrets don't always have to be implicit either. You can call attention to the fact that a character started to say something and stopped. Or that in the chaos of a situation, she didn't choose the hallway everyone else did. Things don't always have to be verbalized to make an impact. But you want to make sure they are noticed. Because even if it does take a more sophisticated reader to pick up on the nuance of a moment, that moment can inform your character, or your situation, in ways perhaps no words can.

And, more for the sake of the writer than the writing,
• Remember this feeling to help you through the more difficult writing days. Because even though it might take a while, it is sure to come again.

I hope your exciting scene comes soon! Enjoy the writing, and know we're all struggling through the same things :)

The Beauty of the Unknown — The Importance of Sometimes Feeling Lost in Your Writing

On my to do list today, after blogging, of course, is to pack. I am going on a trip to visit my wonderful friend in California, so naturally I have to prepare. Although I have a few days before I will actually be in the airport, waiting with the rest of the anxious travelers for the boarding announcement, seeing as it is the weekend and week days are usually packed with a variety of things, I figured I would get a head start. So with some laundry done and a mental list in my mind, I will begin gathering clothes and other items and stacking them in a neat little pile in my suitcase.

We all have an idea of what our trips will look like when we travel. What we pack reflects what we anticipate our trip to be. The general climate, any potential weather storms, the need for toilettries, outfits for varying occasions, and the itinerary for the week. But trips never exactly going as planned. Something unexpected happens for good or for bad. Someone becomes ill. The scenery isn't quite what we expected. A series of fortuitous events make your trip even better than you had imagined. Regardless of specific occurences, travelling is and always will be unexpected. No matter how much you may try to anticipate the trip, things will happen as they will, and while packing might help you to navigate the twists and turns, packing can't change the inherent uncertainties of travelling.

Such is writing.

Much like traveling, writing is a similar foray into a unknown world. And while we can outline and research, character sketch and plan, the experience is never as we anticipated. Although we might be prepared, we are certainly in the unknown.

This is both a fun, exciting part of writing as well as a bit of a downer. I know I certainly wish that writing could be easier sometimes — that all my preparatory work of brainstorming and outlining and mapping made the words flow beautifully onto the page as the scenes flew by with ease. But while some days prove tremendously fruitful and enjoyable, other days are equally as difficult. Yet, there is something rewarding about the days that are harder. You know, that moment when the scene finally comes out just as you'd planned or the hours of agonizing over the perfect details to solve your mystery and bring your character into their promised land culminate into one brilliant idea. In the unexpected, darker times of writing, where you have your luggage in your hand but just can't seem to figure out what corridor to go down, often that is when the best ideas come. When you are feeling most vulnerable and beat down, that's when you can truly delve into the adventure of the page. That's when some of the best scenes are writting.

You see, writing is like life — fully of uncertainty and never what you expect. We don't know what will come around the next bend. And although we can try to plan the heck out of everything, you know it will never quite turn out that way. There is always a surprise waiting just beyond your line of sight.

To be honest, this is not always something that is easy for me. I'm a planner, for better or for worse. But   while I wholeheartedly believe in the importance of packing and preparing to the best of our abilities, I also know that sometimes when you're lost you might just stumble upon what you've been looking for — or even something better.

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.

Shifting Gears — From Finishing to Beginning

Hello, everyone, and happy December! It's amazing how quickly these last few months have flown by, and just how much has happened during that time. As we move into the holiday season, and into the new year, I can contentedly say that I am finished with the final revision of my novel, and moving onto starting the next! Of course, this season will bring an interesting time known as the agent search, and hopefully some rest as well, but as I leave this one project and start on the next, I have begun to think about just how wrapping up one project provides a natural segue to the next.

As a writer, I think it is super important to always be thinking about future projects as you dive into your current one. Part of this goes back to the idea that you never know which novel, and which idea, will be the one that gets you an agent, or a contract, or a widespread readership. But also, being forward thinking and eager to create new, good ideas helps you in your commitment to the craft. Writing is no easy thing, and while it is great to take some time to celebrate your accomplishment of writing or revising your manuscript, you also want to make sure that you keep writing. There is no better way to become a better writer than to simply write more. I know this sounds totally cliche, but the more I write, the more I realize just how true this is.

Right now, I am waiting on the final comments from my mentor and then will officially be done with this novel. And part of me would love to kick back and relax for the next two months as I will admit I am quite tired from the hectic schedule of this past semester. But at the same time, I know it is time to move onto the next project and begin the process again.

I definitely think I am ready to move on from revision and begin writing something new again. While revision can be great, agonizing over sentence level details and deciding if the word "just" should go before or after the verb, and rereading a sentence with and without a contraction is really only fun for so long — at least for me anyways. You can really drive yourself crazy spending so much time on just one word placement when there are thousands of words you need to work through. Of course, this is not to say that revision can't have its great moments, but for now, I know I am ready to jump into the phase of creating anew, and leaving the meticulous nature revision behind.

I've heard some people say that after working with a project for so long, sometimes it can be hard to leave that world behind, with all of its characters and storylines and nuances that have really become a vivid reality to the author. I know I've spent a lot of time in my own fictional world and can see just how true this might be. But right now, because these three months of revision has been so intense and I feel at peace with where the story is at, I am happy to take a break and leave Carter and his world behind. But much like the way that every draft gets better, and your knowledge and craft of writing continually grows and builds upon itself, I think that Carter, and the stories I've written before, will always be part of the fabric of what I write next. They will never truly be left behind.

Your books become part of the fabric of who you are. And while some people might scoff at this idea as overly dramatic, it is really no different than the way that experiences and memories come to shape each of us. What you write, what you spend your time doing, all the things you think about, and all the lessons you learn about writing will carry on to the next project. However latent the role of these past projects become, they will always be part of your creative self, reminding you of the lessons you've learned and helping to shape your characters into more interesting ones and your plot into one of intrigue and action.

So as I move from the end of one project to the beginning of the next, I am confident that while I will face new challenges that I might not have dealt with before, I am better equipped to the write the story I am planning to write, and to write it well. It is time for the beginning of a new project, and thus I will take the lessons I've learned from Blinding and bring them forth into my new fictional world where characters will be created and imaginary lives will be changed. So wish me luck! Here's to many new lessons, new stories, and hopefully, even stronger writing :)

The Home Stretch — Wrapping Up Your Revision, and Finishing Strong

December 1st is the deadline for my last revision, and this time around, I am feeling a new sense of pressure. This pressures comes solely from myself, of course, but still. It's there. And it's there because as the end of the revision approaches, I've realized just how badly I want to make my novel great, and how the time to do that is now.

Working with my mentor over the last few months has been more than I could have ever hoped for. Truly, I have learned so much and my novel and my knowledge base as a writer has grown tremendously. But now as things are wrapping up, I feel that creeping sense of uncertainty that makes me question if I've done enough, and what more I could be doing.

Revision is not a finite process, and every manuscript and writer will require different styles and timelines for revision. For me, particularly as I was and still am on a very specific revision schedule, the period of three and a half months I have dedicated to revision is now coming to a close. And while I can revise beyond this timeframe, independently or perhaps with another editor or writing buddy, I do see this cycle as one of the final steps in my revision process — at least for now. So, with the idea that in another two weeks my manuscript will have reached a fairly "finished" state, I know my mind is just whirring with questions and lists of things to accomplish and the worry that I just want to do everything to make my manuscript as good as it can be!

Being so close to a manuscript and working with it for so long, I know it can become hard to picture what a new reader will think of the novel as opposed to basing my opinion on the many months I've spent with it. Questions like, will he like it? Will she think its a page-turner? Will he believe all the characters to be authentic and engaging? I know everything about the manuscript, from my protagonist's middle name to exactly how the doctors visit went, and just what the setup of his house looks like. So as I try to evaluate if it is "good", it can be hard to tell just how right, or — gulp — wrong, I could be. All of these questions and feelings have arisen over the past couple days as I have slowly worked through my list of things to revise, and edged closer to my final deadline.

After I turn in this revision, my editor will read the manuscript one last time, and then...Then I am on my own. I know that I will begin sending the novel to agents as I start the first pages of my spring novel, but the realization that I will be doing this all on my own has really hit me this week. Stephen won't be there for me to ask my questions to; and he won't be there to give me a specific task for the next week or impart some much needed wisdom. And it is this knowledge, that soon I will be on my own without anyone to lead me along, has inspired a new wave of diligency. A new sense that now is the time to work and work hard. Now is the time to do all that I can. In all of my other revisions, it's not that I haven't worked hard, but now, it's as though I've moved from dress rehearsal to opening night. It matters what I do this time, because this is where people will start to see it. The time to make things right is now.

It's almost like after this cycle, there is no second chance — and while really, this is my fifth, it holds the same feeling. When you come to the end of revision you want to feel as though your work is as shiny and attractive and creative as possible. You want to feel that no matter who reads it, they will come away feeling impressed, happy to have spent their time within the pages of your story. So I must work hard. Even though I am tired and ready for the semester to end, and even though there are days I feel like I might want to take a break from the world I've created, now, today, is the time to stay focused. And tomorrow, and the next day, and the next day, all the way until December 1st.

Then, I will take a deep breath, press the send button, and, if I work hard for the remaining two weeks, be able to trust that my work is the best that it can be, and that the manuscript is truly ready to go out into the world. Here's to praying that it happens! And to being proud of my work at the end.

The Question of What to Say — On Talking About Your Manuscript

Today marks the end of my fourth revision cycle, after which I will have a few days of rest before receiving my manuscript back from my editor/mentor, and will start revision all over again. And while this past revision cycle has been busy with edits, the most challenging of which turned out to be deciding the placement of chapter breaks, I wanted to blog about something other than the revision process itself. Something that has been on my mind for quite some time. Namely, the decision about when to talk about my novel, and to what extent.

With my blog and my general commitment to writing/revising each and every day, pretty much everyone in my life knows, on some level, about my writing. The support I have received has been truly overwhelming, and I am so thankful for the encouragement offered each and every week. I've even blogged about it here, as I know that my writing, and my emotional wellbeing, would not be anywhere as strong without all of you. But in everyone knowing and supporting my writing, questions about my book and requests to read it consistently come up. And I always find myself at a bit of a crossroads here, unsure about how much to share, but not wanting to hurt someone's feelings by saying no.

I love sharing insights about my writing process, how I get ideas, the timeline of writing, and the publishing industry itself. Honestly, it is so great that people are so interested and want to understand my writing life better, as I know it opens up connections and deepens relationships when you share your passions with other people. At the same time, it can be hard to know what exactly to say and what to keep to myself. On my blog, I tried to be very careful about not revealing too much about my manuscript, because as much as the online world is wonderful and encouraging and meant to be a shared experience, I simultaneously want to protect my ideas, and make sure I don't give too much away in the case that my manuscript will be published one day. But with friends, and those I care about, it is much harder to be as protective or deny someone insight into what my ideas may be.

Over the past fews months, in response to the question, "What is your manuscript about?", one of the ways I've tried to manage this is by prefacing my answer with, "I will tell you, but you can't tell anyone else." Sometimes, I feel a little silly repeating this, but I see it as a way to both alert someone that not only do I really not want them to tell anyone else, but also that by telling them, I am placing a certain amount of trust and confidence in that person. Of course, depending on who I am talking to, I provide more or less detail about the work, but other than perhaps my one writing friend who I work through all my ideas with, I also feel a little uncomfortable telling people about my work. And that turns into feeling a little guilty.

I know people are just asking because they are curious. And so often I receive truly amazing, and surprising support from others. Because the reality is that they really do care. But while the writing process, and this part of my life really, is something that I definitely want to share, it is also something that I do alone; something that still has to come from me, and no one else. Recently, a friend asked me why I wouldn't want to let other people read my work. And it was a really good question because it made me reflect on the reasons which I think are these:

• My friends and family are not my target audience
• While I will always want my loved ones to like what I write, ultimately, I am going to keep writing it either way, and don't want to feel discouraged by potential disapproval
• To some extent, I am just not interested in their opinions, because I want to trust my own, and I want to create something that comes strictly from me
• I want them to read it one day for sure, but not until the work is done, polished, and really ready to go somewhere 

I know some authors never disclose what they are working on, not even revealing the smallest snippet of the idea. This is definitely not something I am looking to do, but I do think the amount of sharing can also depend on the project. For the manuscript I will begin working on in December, I know that I do not want to share as much as I have for this project with such a broad spectrum of people. I've only told one person the title, and other than two of my friends who have helped me work out the plot, virtually no one knows anything about it beyond that it is going to be a fantasy novel, much like a fairy tale. And for some reason, with this project, I want to keep it that way.

I guess I don't have any concrete conclusions to share or what is the "right" answer. But I often feel this tension between wanting to answer people openly, and not wanting to keep my work private. Of course, there are times when I want help, and I definitely rely on a few fun, key idea people to bring up new concepts and help me work through conundrums. But on the whole, this is a question I think about consistently, and one I have still yet to resolve in my mind.

Perhaps this tension between wanting to be friendly, loving, and open and wanting to protect, shelter, and keep my work private will always exist. But at least know that if I don't tell you as much as you might like, it is truly nothing personal. It's just hard for me to know exactly what to say.

I'd love to hear what others writers think about this, and how much others are willing to share with friends and what that they keep to themselves, so feel free to comments or shoot me an email!

Choosing Your Next Project — Writing for Others, and for Yourself

Yesterday, I had coffee with my good friend and fellow writer Heather Demetrios to catch up on life and talk about all things writerly. And while all of our conversation was truly fun and enriching, one thing I kept thinking about after I left is the balance between current projects and future projects. Or perhaps more precisely, choosing what project you want to pursue next, and how to know that that's the one you should go with.

For me, this subject has been on my mind because while I still have a long way to go in the revision of my current novel, the deadline for my spring mentorship proposal is fast approaching. The way that my MFA program at Simmons works, this year, my second and final year of the degree, consists of two intensive mentorships in which you work on two different manuscripts during the two respective semesters. Thus, the need to be aware of what I am going to do next, and to select what I feel is the "best" project from my list of potential ideas, has definitely been a real pressure that I've felt over the past few months.

Similarly for Heather, who is completing her MFA at VCFA, she, too, must choose a project to work on next. And, as a 2014 debut author with her YA novel Streaming, feels the even added pressure of wanting to produce a great second novel that will be a strong follow up to her first. Of course, I am confident that she will absolutely succeed in this, but I completely understand the stress that comes with choosing your next project. The endeavor of writing a novel mandates a large amount of time and commitment. And while some people can balance writing several things at once, the reality of doing that with working in a full-time (or even part-time), and doing that well, becomes a real challenge. Never mind the fact that when you have a list of projects you want to pursue, you want to take into account the market and what you think will most likely sell, especially as a yet unpublished or debut author.

So as we talked about all our worries yesterday, and as I left to return home to my work, I realized that this pressure, this uncertainty, is something we will probably always have to deal with. No one knows for sure that one book will sell over the next. Or that this project should take precedent over that one. And it is this decision making process that will probably always keep our minds spinning as we consider our upcoming works. But, this is not something that necessarily has to hold us back, or paralyze us from producing good work. If handled the right way, it is something that can only make us better.

See, I think Heather and I both come from the camp of "write more, and write more, now!" For better or for worse, we will probably always be the overachieving sort who go for the things we want and never want to quit anything, no matter how hard something might become, and then move onto the next one. And productivity wise, this can be a great quality, but emotionally, sometimes it is simply exhausting. So ultimately, like most things, choosing what to work on next must come down to a balance. On one hand, it is good to write with an eye toward the market — considering what is out there and what isn't, what holes you can fill, and what audience you're after. But at the same time, you need to go with what you feel most passionate about, or the story you know in your heart you need to write, regardless of the trends of what you think is likely to get bought.

The writing we do has to come from us. And even though I know I so desperately want my writing to be read and to affect other people, my writing will always need to be not just from me, but for me, too. We need to write for ourselves; for the love we have of literature and for the stories that we are just dying to tell. We need to write knowing that one manuscript might not go anywhere, but that we'll still keep on writing anyway. Maybe your first, or second, or third or fourth book doesn't get a lot of attention, or maybe doesn't even get bought. For all of us, that is a slight scary reality. So you want to make sure that especially now, as a newer or even more established author, each project you work on is a project you're really invested in, not just one you think will get you ahead.

The hard truth is that there are no guarantees. Being a writer is not a path for someone who is looking for security and certainty. As as someone who likes to plan out everything, I can say, it can be totally hard. So choosing the book you really want to write is something that will help sustain you on the long journey of writing.

We ultimately do this because we love this, right? And loving your book will help you want to keep going — in this project and in the next.  And having some good writer-friends by your side, to work through your worries and your ideas, definitely won't hurt, either!

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.

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! 

Letting Go — The Road to Trust

This week, I completed my manuscript — yay! — and have started rereading my story in its entirety for proofreading and simple revisions. It was definitely exciting to finish the writing phase and feel that I have a whole, complete story to work with now. Getting to the end of the story and seeing the entire story arch are great platforms from which I can now leap into my revision.

As part of my MFA program, I have been matched with a wonderful editor to work on my manuscript throughout the semester.  The founder of two publishing companies and an incredible editor who has worked with many talented authors, I could not have asked for a better editor than Stephen Roxburgh. I am truly excited to be paired with this mentor, and so, starting September 1st, or really Tuesday, as that is the day I will be sending him my manuscript, I will begin working with him to revise and polish my manuscript. In place of a traditional class, during this mentorship I will work with my editor to do five complete manuscript revisions and hopefully bring my work to the place where I can begin sending it out to publishers. So now, as the summer draws the a close and school is just around the corner; as I complete my independent portion of the writing and move into collaboration; and as I prepare to receive the first round of feedback on my story, I find that I am feeling kind of nervous.

Of course, I've workshopped my writing many times before. But this is different. Unlike workshopping, where you typically show portions of your manuscript at a time, this is a complete manuscript turnover. He will be reading start to finish, without having seen any piece of the work before. Yes, he knows of the premise and the characters, but he doesn't really know anything else. So unlike a workshop setting, the problems he might identify in the beginning could still be very present in the end, and I cannot improve upon certain aspects of the novel before he might get to them.  

So I'm feeling slightly apprehensive about what Stephen's opinions will be, and how he will react to my manuscript. To be honest, I just want him to like it. I want him to say, "Hey, you've really got something here." Regardless of whether he says that or not, I know that my mentor will be critical and honest, and tell me exactly where the manuscript stands. He will identify the weaknesses and the strengths, the inconsistencies and missing components — and all for the betterment of my work. But as I wait to receive his feedback, I still find myself a bit anxious: anxious that perhaps the manuscript is not good enough, and anxious about all the work I have ahead.

I definitely have a tendency to anticipate and worry. I mean, I haven't even turned over my manuscript yet. So instead of sitting in anxiety, I need to just take a deep breath, finish my small revisions, and hand my manuscript over. This type of blind reading will provide both great, honest feedback for Stephen, and a great life experience for me. This format is much like the real world in which I would send out my work to an agent or an editor anyway, so this will just provide good practice. During my writing career, there are going to be people who say they don't like things, or that this manuscript or another manuscript just isn't good enough. And if or when someones says that, I just have to accept their opinion, and continue working hard to make my manuscript shine.

I've come to realize that I have to trust in my work as it is. I know that my manuscript as it stands is not awesome. It is a first draft. Is it good? Yeah, probably, but not ready to go anywhere other than to my mentor for sure. But even knowing that I have lots of work ahead, I also need to know that no matter what the feedback, I will be able to handle and work through the criticisms that I will receive. I need to trust that even if its not good enough right now, I can make it good enough through hard work. I need to trust that my story has potential, that I will be able to hear and accept the revisions, that I have the talent and work ethic it takes to be a writer. 

I need to know that I might not be there yet, and I might not even get there with this manuscript, but I am on my way. Unfortunately, writing a good, ready manuscript doesn't happen overnight, or in a week, or in a month. It takes revision and the help of others like my editor, and just basic hard work. Writing is a journey. I need to trust in the journey. The feedback will be what it will be. But until I actually have it in hand, there's nothing I can do but wait, and trust that I worked really hard. I just have to let my work go and see what happens. Ultimately, there's not really a choice. This is what writers do, right? Write and revise, turn it over and see what happens, and then do it all over again?  

I'll be sure to keep you updated on the journey! 

Inviting People Into Your Process

People often think that writing is a solitary experience. And in many ways, this is absolutely true. You think by yourself. You sit by yourself. You type by yourself. Most people want to work in a quiet, isolated environment. But yet, as I have been finding with my writing lately, inviting people into your process, and allowing others to share in and enrich your writing, yields a far better product than you could create on your own.  

These past few weeks, I've done a lot of writing. It feels like my life revolves around it, in fact. And in being so submerged in my projects, doing research and constantly jotting down ideas and working out story lines, I found myself developing questions that I wanted to bounce off others. For example, with the novel I am working on (the one with the deadline), soccer has become a large part of the storyline. Because of this, I did a lot of research — not being a soccer expert myself — making diagrams, listing soccer formations, studying different types of skills. And while I felt very comfortable with the knowledge I had amassed, there were certain moments when my wording didn't seem just right. Or when I wasn't actually sure if this thing would happen in a middle-school soccer game. So instead of moving forward and just hoping I was correct, I reached out to my friend Sean who knows almost everything about the game of soccer. And not only did he help me verify and correct what I already knew, but he gave me great new facts and ideas that will greatly improve my book. 

Similarly, a few weeks ago, I went to hang out with a friend of mine from work, Richard, and his good friend Justin, to talk about a future project. This novel idea arose from Richard one day talking about what Justin does. It is a job I had never given any thought to in a setting that was just perfect for a story. Something I never would have thought to explore on my own, up until that point, I didn't even really know it existed. So when interviewed, the details, description, and intricate knowledge given to me by Justin provided a richness to the setting I would never be able to achieve on my own.  And while I went in with a few ideas of my storyline, by sharing my vision and asking him to share of his knowledge, I came out just bursting with possibilities of a story I would never have pursued on my own. 

I think there is definitely a fear of sharing your ideas with others. And certainly there is a time and place to do so. I wouldn't advocate going around and telling everyone everything you're working on. Sometimes ideas need to be protected — from other's opinions or rejections, or simply so that your idea doesn't get around or taken by someone else. But at the same time, hiding your ideas could mean closing yourself off to the enriching stories of others. It could mean closing yourself off to different possibilities that might not come from your mind alone, but will only come through a collaboration with another.  

People have infinite amounts of knowledge to share. They also have infinite ideas. Each person has a unique set of expertise; a unique imagination; unique life experiences. My life will never be the same as yours, just as my imagination won't take me to the places yours does. I think it is important to develop your own ideas and to be the sole writer of your work. But at the same time, asking for help, talking about ideas, and being open to different opinions can enhance your work in a way nothing else can. 

Other peoples stories enrich mine. This is something I'm learning, and something I want to embrace. And as I share my process with others, as I invite them to partake in even the smallest bit of the experience, I am finding that not only are people interested, but they are enthusiastic. They are excited. They encourage me and help me find the drive to continue even on the days that might be the hardest.  

So thank you to those of you who help me. I am better for it, and so is my story. 

Sprinting Toward the Finish — A Word on Deadlines

I have until August 29th to finish my manuscript. A little stressed, you ask? Yes. Definitely. It is not that I can't do it, for I know that I can. But this deadline has a way of placing just enough pressure ot keep me on my toes, and is close enough that I have begun to watch the days tick by. In other words, my upcoming deadline makes every day count.

As I thought about this post, I wondered where this word came from. Sure, I get the connotation of a hard and fast line that cannot be moved, because it is "dead", but the more I thought about it, the more it seemed that the word suggest that if you cross this 'line', than perhaps you die. So, I did a little research as to the origin and came up with this answer: During the Civil War, a deadline referred to a line around an army barracks that no prisoner could cross. If they crossed the line, then they would be shot. A deadline thus wasn't originally about crossing it, but rather not crossing.

Luckily for us writers, deadlines no longer instill a fear of certain death. But while I won't be dying once I cross the line (and hopefully won't die if I don't), deadlines provide a real and tangible cutoff for the time a work needs to be completed. For me, this deadline for completing my novel has become real, and fast approaching. My work is due to my awesome new editor on September 1st, and since I am going out of the country on the 29th, my cutoff has been bumped up a few days. But regardless of whether my deadline is the 29th or the 1st, a deadline creates a sense of urgency that cannot be denied.

Deadlines can be a great way to muster up some motivation. Some people work best under pressure, and some might just need that extra kick to get started. But especially in terms of self-imposed deadlines, I think it is best to give yourself a little bit of wiggle room, and keep the reality of your abilities within your reach. Some people can comfortably pump out two thousand words per day, while others may feel more comfortable at five hundred. Some people revise as they go; others whip out a first draft and never look back until the end. Some people write every day of the week, while some write only three times per week. We all have different patterns. We all have different creative processes. So keeping this in mind as you plan for a deadline — or set one for yourself — is an important part of helping you successfully achieve your goal.

Just as it is important to maintain an awareness of your process when thinking about deadlines, it is equally important to realize that deadlines go a long way in helping to stretch us as writers. Deadlines provide a way to push us to do more than we might have otherwise thought possible, moving us beyond our common word counts or the time it takes us to revise. There is a fine line between being realistic and underestimating ourselves. When faced with a certain cutoff, we often realize we can do more than we ever thought. And this is something we should all embrace.

So as my deadline approaches, I am trying to be both realistic and aim high. I am embracing the pressure and embracing the stretch. All there is to do now is move forward toward the goal, without stopping and without getting hung up on the fear of incompletion. I hope you do the same, too. Because no matter how hard it feels, I know you can do it. And in the end, if you don't, you will just end up with a whole lot of great work that you didn't have before!

Being A Good Listener...or Eavesdropper

While making time to shut the door and isolate yourself in order to get your best writing done is extremely important (and something I think really can't be overestimated), so, too, is putting yourself in situations that allow you to listen to the world, or perhaps more honestly, that allow you to eavesdrop. This is something I've heard said for years now, particularly in my writing classes: that to be a good writer you must pay attention. You must be a good listener and observe the world around you. You must carry around a notebook and jot things down all the time. And of course, I nodded and wrote down the advise, and do carry a notebook in my purse or backpack. But this week, this idea really came alive for me. And I found that listening helped me not only with my current project, but with the projects I am currently developing. Listening became free inspiration. And new ideas seemed to be popping up all over.

Instead of cooking dinner one night, I decided to go out and grab some food. As I waited for my order, I took out my notebook and began doing some writing, kind of paying attention to the people moving around me and the TV on mute in the background. Then, the interplay between several waiters caught my attention. Teasing and joking one another, they began to make up these ridiculous names and guess at their potential origins. Some of them were so good, that I began jotting them down, knowing that I was totally stealing these — one in particular which will be perfect for my spring novel! They even caught me laughing, it was so funny! But they didn't seem to mind at all.

Similarly, while taking a break to watch some of the olympics, I found myself enthralled by the sports commentary. So  helpful to my current novel, I listened to the phrases and flow of the words — things you can't just look up on the internet. Sure, you can find a list of the phrases, but to hear them used, to hear them woven together and spoken so effortlessly gave me a whole new insight into how to use the terms.

Then yesterday, as a girl of seven or eight walked down the sidewalk of an apartment complex under a shared umbrella with a boy of the same age, she said, "I ain't running in no rain." The sass that came from that little girl in white ballet flats and a pink Sunday dress reminded me just how opinionated kids can be. And the subsequent acceptance of the boy, who didn't dare utter one word of protest, revealed just how early the boy to girl dynamics begin. Listening to children's conversations is one of the funnest things to do, but also so important to my work. Understanding and recreating the speech patterns of a child allows me, as a children's writer, to gain an authenticity that I may otherwise be lacking, and similarly reminds me that children are just as complex as adults, even though people seem to forget this at times. But in order to get it right, I need to listen to it unfold.

Being in the world, and being present, provides so many ideas that are just there for the taking. Each of the examples above helped me gather an idea, or think about a character differently, or improve the texture of my language. And all of them just happened. I just was in the right place at the right time. But really, it was the right time because I was listening — listening with that writerly ear — and recognizing them as related to my stories almost as soon as I heard them.

Coupled with this idea of listening to other's conversations, is also the idea that you should create your own. Ask questions. Be friendly. Offer to buy someone a coffee, and interview them about their knowledge and skill sets. Most people want to talk — about themselves and their own stories, or something that just happens to be on their heart. So listening, and asking might just be the best way to find ideas, and enrich the ones you already have. Inspiration comes from all over. And sometimes the most unlikely of places. So make sure to keep your ears open. And stick by those friends who are really great storytellers.

Keeping It Real — The Importance of Authenticity

This past week, much of my writing time has been devoted to research — researching soccer positions, defensive and offensive formations, drills, terms, and the important skill sets for each position. I've taken notes and watched youtube videos. I've made lists and diagrams of a soccer field. I've even asked a few soccer players I know for advice. It's been interesting, but doesn't fully fit into my typical idea of writing productivity. If the page numbers aren't increasing, it just doesn't feel as fruitful, right? But knowing your subject goes well beyond the importance of page numbers. It creates a sense of authenticity that ultimately affects both the voice of the novel and the reading experience of your future reader.

Going into my novel, I didn't anticipate that the game of soccer would be such a big part of my plot. I'd done plenty of research for other important topics in my novel, but didn't realize just how heavily soccer would play into the life of my character. Thus, I needed to understand it better — to really delve into the subject matter in order to write (or seem to write) with authority.

Providing an authenticity to whatever topic you are exploring is like creating a backbone to your work. It is something to lean on. Something that makes your work seem to stand a little straighter, and will make your work stronger. Authenticity is one of those tricky things that takes a whole lot of effort but doesn't always get a whole lot of recognition. Often, when you, the writer, seem to know what your talking about, then readers will simply accept your presentation and move forward, never questioning or really admiring your knowledge, unless it's something really rare. But, even if no one knows just how hard you worked or how many hours of research you had to put in, they will definitely know if you didn't put enough time into given subject matter.

Authenticity is literary quality that often doesn't get highlighted, but is always noticed when it isn't there. Whether it's details about a specific geographic region, the intricacies of a hobby like fishing, the rules for baking a delicacy, or a sport such as soccer, the reader needs to feel convinced that you know what your talking about. You never know when that fishing expert is going to pick up your book and read about a process they know by heart. You don't want to alienate them by getting it wrong. And similarly, for the reader who knows nothing about fishing or baking, you want to provide them with valid information so they can learn and expand their knowledge of the topic.

Of course, soccer is not the primary focus of my novel, just as your subject may not be yours. But the value of authenticity can't be underestimated. As writers we need to know what we are talking about. Yes, our stories are fiction, and perhaps even set in another world, but you want to build a trust with your reader through the presentation of real facts — a trust that allows them to not have to question your details; a trust that allows them to fall deeper into the story because you have done all the leg work for them.

Authenticity goes along way in strengthening a story, and a long way in creating a relationship with your reader. So even if you might not like doing all the research, keep going. In the end, when a reader can benefit from all your behind-the-scenes work, the research will pay off, your story will be stronger, and it will all be worth it.

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 :-)