Revision Pool, Revisited

Bonn on the Rannoch Moor

Back in March I wrote about how Discipline is Remembering What You Want.  To that quote, I would now like to add, "And Acting On It."

In the intervening months we've had a few changes going on in our lives.  I'm no longer volunteering at the Conservators' Center -- but I have started doing some work with CLAWS, a rehab & release wildlife group.  I spent most of February through May working on a series of Print & Play games for my son-in-law's Christmas present.  I read a lot.

And, I avoided writing.

I knew I needed to take a break.  After two years of revising and revising (and revising and revising) The Book, I needed some distance from all of it -- the continual revising, the repeated feelings of this is going to be THE revision that gets me a contract, and the ever-accompanying crash of disappointment when Agent X said it wasn't quite there yet.  Sure, aspects of the story was getting better, but my enthusiasm (and ego) were getting weary of the rejections.

So, I decided I would give myself six months before pushing myself back to the virtual writing desk.  Six months without thinking (much) about either The Book or the other story I had kicking around in the back of my head.  Six months of guilt-free avoiding writing.


By May, however, the mental itch to start writing again began making itself known.  I thought I would start writing again in June, but I still hadn't decided what I was going to work on.  Then June got busy and my indecision failed to abate.  


Part of the problem was that I had decided that if I was going to revise The Book, it was going to be with a distinctive narrator voice.  That had been a feature of the book when it first started to take shape in my mind.  Then, as the writing started to happen, I quickly abandoned it, thinking it was a bit too contrived for publication.    I think that was a major mistake.


A strong narrator's voice, especially one that is a cross between Monty Python and Little Britain, must be done with an eye towards complimenting, not interfering with the story and the characters.  Philip Ardagh did it skillfully in both of his Eddie Dickens trilogies (which I referenced in my query) and was the kind of writing I wanted for The Book.

It may not be quite "back to the drawing board" but it is back to the Deep End of the Revision Pool.  I wish I could say it was with something akin to renewed enthusiasm, but it's not.   It's more like knowing I have a lot of hard work ahead of me that I'm willing to do because I believe in the story and the characters and my ability to bring it all together the way I feel it deserves to be.




-- Tom

Maintaining Enthusiasm During Yet Another Round of Revisions

Ra Lion in a box.  (Seriously, how cute is that?)

Last week I wrote out drafts for several posts outlining my Adventure with Agents thus far.  It's a multi-part series and one that I'm awaiting The Happy Ending to before posting.

I mention this because I'm back in the Deep End of the Revision Pool.  This time I'm working with a Different Agent who has asked for (surprise!) revisions.   She feels my MC is not only overshadowed by the strong personalities surrounding him, but he also feels a bit under-defined in general.  She's like to see my MC better defined.

In our initial phone conversation she referred to the changes she was requesting as being "deep rooted."  In a way, I suppose they are.  To me, though, bringing out my MC more sounds far less daunting than, say, revising the storyline because the plot doesn't hold together.  I know my MC well enough so writing more of his perspective and reactions shouldn't be too difficult.

The problem, though, is one of restoring the proper enthusiasm for the revision.  Weeks ago I had jumped back into BOOK #2 revising it to bring it to the standards developed over the last set of major revisions.  (Interestingly, most of those revisions were putting the story squarely within my MC's head)  I did this because I had considered BOOK #1 to be done.  Now, to re-open BOOK #1 and start re-re-re-re-tinkering with it yet again feels a bit exhausting.

A large part of this has to do with it all being done, once again, on spec.  The whole Not Really An Agreement Agreement is frustrating.  It's not that I don't understand the reasoning behind it:  Different Agent doesn't know me or the extent of my writing abilities and she doesn't feel the manuscript is at a point now where she can make me an offer of representation.  And, yes, I completely understand that  Different Agent is investing her time and energy without any guarantee as well.  It's just that, from my side of the monitor, I feel like I'm being pushed back onto the tightrope, blindfolded, and about to expend a great deal of effort, not knowing if I'll reach the other side safely or be knocked off by a gust of wind halfway across.

One good sign: Different Agent has responded to a variety of questions from me with the kind of prompt professionalism and encouragement that gives me hope.  She's even handled my overly-cautious-afraid-to-trust-again inquiries and statements without telling me, "Okay, I get it.  Now knock it off."   (To be fair, I did try to head that one off by sending an apologetic, "Honestly, I'm usually not this high maintenance!" email)


What are you working on and where are you with it?  Any surprises along the way?  Do you wish for surprises?


-- Tom

Four Thoughts on Revision and Editing

Lampost: near Moore Square, Raleighwood 2011

Last weekend I sent out Rev 3.1 of THE BOOK for review.  This revision was a thorough polish of the more-than-doubling in word count that was Rev 3.0 along with yet another extensive line editing of the entire manuscript.

A few things struck me over the past weekend when I was transferring all of the changes from the print out of the manuscript and various notes into the digital document.  In no particular order, they were:

"Writing" is 10% First Draft Writing, 90% Editing and Revising
When I was a kid and first thinking about being a writer I would not have believed this.  My favorite books all seemed to flow so effortlessly on the page while my attempts appeared clunky and disjointed.  Those authors, I reasoned, must have the innate talent to effortlessly type out perfection, page after page--a talent I completely lack.

Even after reading Anne Lammott's thoughts on (ahem) first drafts and revisions in BIRD BY BIRD it still took me quite a while to accept the universality of the truth that the distance between a first draft and the published work is more properly measured in light years, not seconds.

Come to think of it, my 10% estimate may be high.


Revision is Like Working On a Jigsaw Puzzle
As a kid I played a lot of board games and worked on a lot of jigsaw puzzles.  There were a number of years where as soon as it got cold outside, a jigsaw puzzle would be on the large board that covered the living room coffee table until the spring.  I suppose it's only natural that my mind sees a lot of things in terms of board games and puzzles.


When it comes to THE BOOK, I can see the picture on the box in my mind's eye.  Some of the puzzle pieces are in front of me and others I have to create myself.  Discovering how to create those pieces is usually a puzzle in itself.  Throughout the process, though, I know all of the pieces exist somewhere--I just have to find them all and then put them in the right places.

And since I like puzzles, looking at revision this way helps to make it not seem quite so daunting (and unending).


Even After So Many Revisions, There Was Still a Lot in Need of Revising
This probably surprised me more than anything.  Having gone over (and over and over) THE BOOK this many times I thought I had cleared up any words or phrases that were lacking in clarity.  I can only guess that I was so used to seeing them on the page that I had stopped thinking about what they were--and more importantly, what they were not--saying.

Clever but unclear word choices, amusing bits that ended up misdirecting the reader's attention, and lots of words that just didn't sound or look right in their sentences were left on the cutting room floor like so many first-person shooter video game carcasses that wink out of pixelated existence.


I Must Now Go Through the Same Quality of Revision for All of My Other Work
THE BOOK is the first in a planned series.  The catch, though, is that I wrote two other stories in the series before friends convinced me that BOOK2 and BOOK3 needed THE BOOK (i.e. BOOK1) as a full introduction for the others in the series.  BOOK2 and BOOK3 are "completed" in that they, like the draft of THE BOOK that I sent out to agents, were about about 20,000 words each.  THE BOOK is now pushing 57,000 words.  This means BOOK2 and BOOK3 need to be expanded by two-thirds.  In other words, take what I've already written for BOOK2 and write twice as much.  Then add in that same amount again.

BOOK2 and BOOK3, to my mind, have a certain snap to them.  They move along at an engaging pace without being too brief nor too quick.  They're compact stories that I intentionally trimmed to focus on the characters and the action.  And now I have to figure out how to expand them, while keeping the quality of the story and characters to the high standards I've now set for myself with the revisions to THE BOOK.

I'm currently hitting my head against this one with BOOK2.  I have about two, maybe three extra chapters I know I can squeeze in, but otherwise, I'm no closer to finding the pieces to this puzzle now than I was two months ago when I first took another look at BOOK2.


What's your take on the editing/revision process?  Do you have any insights you'd like to share?  Helpful hints?  Magic tricks?  Mystical Secrets of the Orient?


--Tom

p.s.  You still have time to enter my contest to win a copy of Alan Snow's HERE BE MONSTERS.  I'll wager your chances of winning will be better than just about any other contest you enter anytime soon!

Coming Up for Air

Since sometime in November I've been in the Deep End of the Revision Pool.  It's been an interesting time, one that has taught me a lot about writing and about myself as a writer.  I hadn't expected to see the book grow to be as long as it is (215 Word doc pages, 52,500 words--up from 30,000 words when I began querying on it) nor had I expected to see the story become... well, a real book.

I took the weekend to go through my final checklist of recommended changes and do a final read-through, start-to-finish of the entire book.  I finished just after midnight on Monday morning and immediately sent it off to my beta readers and my CP.  Then I went to bed, knowing I was both happy with the book and pretty danged sick and tired of working on it.

It's all I've worked on for two months, both on the bus rides to and from werk and most of my evenings and weekends.  When I get into this kind of mindset, I stop reading books and spend far too many hours in front of a computer screen.

Now I'm planning on taking the week off from my home Mac and spend some time with that stack of books I've been meaning to read.

(First on the list is Elizabeth Edwards' "Saving Graces."  I read the chapter on the death of her son, Wade, on the ride in today.  It is some of the most emotionally raw, yet elegant writing I've ever read)

So, I've come up for air for the week.

It feels great.  (And exhausting)


How's your writing? How's your week?  And have you chosen a Word for the Year?  Let me know in the Comments!

-- Tom

The Importance of Timelines

Mika detects a disturbance in The Force.

Last night I was having a great time in the Deep End of the Revision Pool.  The additional three chapters had been written and the revisions were going well.  The dialog was humming along in my head, the actions were clear and concise, and my main character was showing, not telling, his growth in the scene. 

I was in that rare writing Groove.  I even remember thinking that I was actually enjoying the work.

Then came a Disturbance in The Force: a little voice in the back of my head started trying to get my attention.

"Say, um, Tom.  I think I've found a problem here."

"Can't this wait?  I'm in a Groove here."

"Well, sure.  It's a pretty big problem, though."

"Is anything that can't wait until I'm done here?  I mean, did I forget that one of my character sprouted a third arm that I haven't refered to in these chapters?"

"No, no.  Nothing like that.  Tell you what, let me just say one word, okay?  One word so you won't forget?  Okay?"

Sigh.  "Fine.  One word."

"Great.  Here is goes: Timeline."

"Timeline?"

"Yep, that's it.  See ya, bye!"

Oh, sazzafrazzarazzamatazz*.

Several years back I was one of two people reading through the final edit of a book by Vance Briceland before he send it off to his editor.  The book was "I Went to Vassar for This?"  I remember my work on this book for three reasons:

1. I completely misread the race of a key minor character, thus several of my comments made no sense whatsoever.
2. I argued stringently against his fictional/poetic license of moving the night "What's My Line?" aired -- from, as I recall, Sunday to a Saturday 
3. As a result, Vance has never asked me to read another of his books before it's gone to press.

Oh, wait.  There was a point to that aside:

1. The one valuable contribution I made to that pre-read was in spotting a timeline error.  It was easily fixed and much appreciated.

Ii had just finished reading a book on Place and Setting that had a full chapter on Timelines.  The book recommended making a timeline of your story, especially if you have mulitple characters who are all off doing different things throughout the story.  Do they all  have time to accomplish their tasks?  Is the time too short?  Too long?  Can they all get to where they need to be in the time you've allotted for them?

I resolved then and there to always make a timeline for my books.

Except I didn't.

I mean, my book takes place over just a few days, okay?  The primary action takes place under a 48-hour deadline.  Honestly, who needs a timeline for that short a period of time?

Still, if I caught a timeline error in Vance's book, and that nagging voice in my head had left me with that one word... okay.  Sheesh...

I surfaced from the Deep End of the Revison Pool when I was finally happy with the last chapter.  We ate dinner.  I had a glass of wine or two.  We watched the second episode of Cosmos.  I sat down and wrote out by hand what happened on Day One, Day Two, Day Three and Day Four.

Only, there wasn't anything left to do on Day Four.  And an unrealistic amount of work done on Day Two.  Unrealistic as in just about everything takes place on Day Two.

Oh, sazzafrazzarazzamatazz.

I had hoped to have all of Revision II done by yesterday.  Now I'm looking splitting up the days, adding in some details for what happens in between those hours and still sprinkling in enough Sights, Smells and Atmosphere for the overall World Building.

So, learn from my mistake, kids: Always create a Timeline for your character and your book.  Otherwise, at best, you'll get tossed back into the deep end of your own revision pool by a helpful beta reader or CP.  At worst, you'll have a vaguely annoyed agent/editor/paying-customer-as-reader point out the timeline error in your manuscript and you really don't want that happen.


-- Tom


_____________________________________
* It's pronounced just like it's spelled.  It's also significantly more socially acceptable than the phrase that is usually bounding around in my head when I say this.

Being Thrown Back Into the Deep End of the Revision Pool

Organ Pipes and Light

With this having to serve as a somewhat awkward "I don't have an announcement to make but I also don't feel comfortable going into much detail about where this request has come from just yet" let me say I'm back in the Deep End of the Revision Pool.

I received a lengthy email that swelled my ego with some comments and left me scratching my head over others.  The work that I had done on Revision I was very well received.  They loved the additional chapter and the character interactions that it showed and the other added touches sprinkled throughout the manuscript.  The catch?  They wanted more.

Lots more, as it turns out.

The email ended with an invitation to discuss this over the phone if I had any questions.  (Now that you mention it)  So I emailed back and asked if we could talk.

The day before the call I spent some time writing back and forth with my CP who told me, in essence, to stop thinking of my book as KidLit and recognize it as Middle Grade, to stop my whining and get to work with the revision.  That night I spoke to my wonderful wife who told me the author of the email knew, from experience, what she was talking about and saw real potential for my book and to stop my whining and get to work on the revision.

It took me the better part of a week (and two, similar kicks to the head) to process what, exactly, they were asking for.  Their request wasn't merely for more of the same, but for additional content that would change my book from a goofy kids book (my phrase for this project from Day One) to something far more substantial.  

This idea took some getting used to. It meant that there were people out there who were taking my book and my writing seriously and they were asking me to do the same.

The phone call ended up going extremely well, mostly because I told the author of the email exactly what she had written to me and even managed to sum it up in a single, simple sentence.  ("You want more who, where and when, along with deeper character interactions.")

The catch is, this is a fairly large overhaul to the manuscript.  Instead of adding in an additional chapter and patching the ramifications of that chapter into the rest of the story, this is lots of additions, each with their own potential ramifications.  My 120 page manuscript is going to come close to doubling before it's all over.

I'm taking it bird by bird, though, starting with the big three chapter additions and then working down a list of additional scenes and dialogue that need to happen.  I've given myself a deadline of the end of the month/year to make sure I actually do the work instead of fret about how I'm going to do it all.

Those days off next week are going to come in mighty handy.

How about your writing for the last two weeks of the year?  Are you still writing or are you taking time off for the holidays?  Has your writing schedule changed at all?

-- Tom

Spending Time in the Deep End of the Revision Pool

The True Reason for the Season: The $38 Dancing Christmas Pig

Perhaps you've notice I haven't been  posting in the last week or so.  (You have noticed, haven't you?)

I've been deeply immersed in a huge decision, one that threw me into the deep end of the revision pool for steampunk story #1.  I had thought I was finished with this story.  I was even working on new line edits for steampunk story #2 when things started happening.

As a kid I remember absolutely hating editing.  "Why should I edit when I carefully wrote exactly what I wanted to say the first time?" I would angrily ask my fellow classmates.

Now, however, steampunk story #1, which I had liked a lot, is becoming better by leaps and bounds.  To my own amazement, I am loving this revision work.

Tonight I'm putting on my SCUBA gear and preparing to spend the entire weekend in the deep end of the revision pool.  I have a Sunday night deadline to meet and I'm confident I'll get there.  Come Monday, I'll come up for fresh air, dry off and see if my wonderfully patient wife and our six cats still remember me.

More next week.  Take care of yourselves.


-- Tom