Ideas In Things

This was part of some advice given to me by fellow YA Maine writer Deva Fagan.

Lately, it’s taken on new meaning.

As I’ve revised my book I’ve tried to make the main character drive the action more than she was driven by it.  I have tried to make her the cause rather than the effect. And I’ve found it makes for easier writing.  When you have a character who knows what she wants it’s easier to write than a character who is always just reacting to the circumstances around her.   It’s made me more sure of my main character and it’s even made me like her more than I did before.  I suppose I do prefer people and literary characters who are assertive and pro-active in their own lives.  It’s funny I didn’t realize this before.  I think that’s part of the value of having really good readers to help you in revision.

I loved the Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao.  I found the words of Junot Diaz, the author who struggled to complete the book for seven years, equally inspiring.

“Because, in truth, I didn’t become a writer the first time I put pen to paper or when I finished my first book (easy) or my second one (hard). You see, in my view a writer is a writer not because she writes well and easily, because she has amazing talent, because everything she does is golden. In my view a writer is a writer because even when there is no hope, even when nothing you do shows any sign of promise, you keep writing anyway.”

(Read the whole article here.)

This may sound depressing to some, but if he wrote it… and then went on to write a fantastic Pulitzer Prize winning novel… well you get the picture.

For about 9 months now I’ve been in this strange limbo world of having an agent but still being in the process of revising.  I’ve received great feedback from my agent and I’ve struggled to balance the desire to be done, with the desire to make the book as good as it can be.

All along I’ve wondered, am I normal?  Does this usually happen to writers?  Part of me certainly thought once I’d landed an agent I was set.  Alas, not so.  Today I read a great post at kidlit.com about the agent/author revision process.  I especially liked this quote:

“These really do take as long as they take, and each project is different. I’ve seen them take a weekend, I’ve seen them take months. For me, I want them done in a timely manner but quality is much more important. My big pet peeve is seeing a revision that’s been expedited but is incomplete. Revision is a complicated process… you think, you stew, you gnash your teeth, you get ideas, you work and rework… it can’t be rushed.”

I wish I had seen this post 6 months ago.  I would have felt a lot more normal

One of my dearest friends is an architecture student and a historical preservation nerd.  The kind of person who likes to visit cemetaries and old houses on vacation.

Once after having the moldings or other period detail pointed out to me one too many times, my friend asked me if I looked at books the way she looked at buildings.  My first reaction was to blurt out “NO! Because books aren’t boring and buildings are.”

After I got over my initial prejudice I realized that  she’s absolutely right.  Since getting serious about writing a novel I read differently.  When I read a book I pay more attention to the structure of the story than I used to.  If an author throws me a whole chapter of back story I make a mental note about whether or not it worked.  I particularly pay attention to endings and how the whole denoument is handled.   If a familiar plot structure is used, I’m aware of it.  I still read for the pure pleasure of getting lost in a story, but now when I read I’m more aware of what the author is doing to create that experience for me, the reader.

And now, thanks to an observant friend, I’m aware that I’m doing it.  How has writing changed the way you read?

Which came first for you?

In writing my YA science fiction project, I had a very clear vision of the world my character existed in before I ever knew the character herself.  As a result, I think that finding her voice has been more difficult than if I had started with her first.  The world she lives in is clear and detailed and nuanced.  The world was my first love, the character came later.  Finding this character, her voice, her wants and ultimately her story has been the major work of my revision.  You have to have both or you really don’t have a finished product.

All summer I worked on revising my YA science fiction novel.  Through the whole process I tried to keep reminding myself that this was only the first of many revisions I knew were necessary.  But it’s so tempting when you are working hard on something to fantasize that you might be done, or even close to done.

I would compare it to my students who love to write “The End” at the end of their first drafts.  It’s their way of saying they’re done, no matter how much I might encourage them to revise.  And who can blame them, it feels good to be done.  Barry Lane wrote a terrific book about teaching revision called After The End, that addresses these issues.

Of course it’s one thing to tell my students they need to revise and quite another to tell myself.  I think I’m worse.  I know I’m worse.  I want so very much to persevere and write something truly great.  And yet I also want so much to be at “The End”.

I just went through my entire manuscript using the find feature to locate the word “felt”.   My goal was to rid the book of places where I say how the character “felt” rather than showing it through dialogue, thought or action.

For example I replaced “I felt queasy” with “My stomach contracted nervously emitting a serious of strangled gurgles.”  One is much more evocative than the other, if a bit wordy.

Other words I intend to weed out are uses of “noticed” or “observed” in which I’m describing what or how something was seen rather than just writing it outright from the main character’s perspective.  Of course they’re noticing it, it’s their story.

I also plan to go through looking for over-usage of “suddenly”.  I read a good blog post on how this word can be a crutch used instead of writing good transitions.