Posted in Revising, Revision

When DO You Back Up & Start Over?

I am the queen of writing forward. Okay, I’m the queen of telling other people to do that.

Nobody has ever said I don’t have strong opinions. Or that I don’t share them. So what’s happening? Well, as so often happens when we spout off share our opinions, life seems to be coming back at me with a “Oh, really?!” And a “Ha!” And, even possibly, a “Neener-neener.”

I’m considering restarting an entirely new draft of my YA historical without having finished off the last.

Not yet, obviously. I’m still working through Donald Maass’ Writing the Breakout Novel Workbook, and I’m still on the character section–haven’t even started the plot section yet. So no decisions today.

But…remember my reasons for going back to the workbook? My WIP was in such a tangle, I felt totally lost. Believe me, I’m not out of those lost woods yet.

I’m hoping to be, and I’m seeing glimpses of light, and I’m realizing all over again what a tangle of bad knots that last draft is. (Not to mention the one before it!) And I’m feeling like the idea of stepping back into that mess makes me cringe. Plus, the ideas I am having–I can’t see how or where they would fit into what I have on the page, even if I do tell myself I’m still just drafting.

Which, obviously, I will be.

So my question to you is: if you’re a forward-moving writer; if you’re someone who–like me–feels that the best thing you can do is finish off a draft  and then restart…when do you break that “rule?”

When do you leave the earlier mess in a lump, without writing a last page, and start over? When do you let yourself start fresh?

And how has that worked for you?

Advice and words of experience welcome!

Posted in Book in a Week, First Drafts, NaNoWriMo, Revising

Let’s Talk about 1st Drafts: A (Hopefully) Gentle Post-Nano Pep Talk

A week or so ago, I blogged about progress–thinking about what people would be feeling as they came to the end of NaNo. Now that NaNo is over & authors everywhere are actually looking over what they did produce in November, I’m feeling the need to talk about things a little bit more. Actually, this post is prompted in part by the disappointment an online friend was (hopefully, not is, anymore) feeling about her 1st draft. So this may turn into a bit of a rant.

Qualifier: I very much like the idea of NaNo. I did a variant in Book in a Week a few years ago, and I was thrilled with the results–with where that week got me, in terms of understanding my story and in terms of having actual material to move forward with.

Note that I did not say I was thrilled with the draft.

That first draft was–well, let’s just call it an Anne Lamott-approved 1st draft. I sat down to read it after the week, and started scribbling notes and thoughts, and then I stopped reading. Because it was just that bad.

I did not stop revising. By maybe 1/3 of the way through, I’d seen that my hero was being a totally passive observer, letting his sidekick drive the choices and actions of the story. I didn’t have to read the whole manuscript to find out whether he continued that way; I knew he did. And I knew that, before I could do any other revising, I had to tackle this major problem.

So I wrote a second draft, in which I pushed that hero to the front. I made the story goals his goals, and I threw the obstacles in his path. Did I work on other, smaller issues as I went through all the chapters? Of course, I did–I’m human! But that was the revision focus. And when I finished that draft, I had something I thought I could work with. Something I thought I could pass through my critique group without too much humiliation and embarrassment.

What’s my point? That first draft–whether you wrote it in a week or a month–is supposed to be bad. REALLY bad. How could it be otherwise? Unless you have the brain of, I don’t know…Stephen Hawking? Albert Einstein? William Shakespeare? ______________ ? (Fill in the blank with the name of any famous author you’ve heard say they DO write a beautiful first draft!), you cannot write a manuscript that fast and THINK about it at the same time. Yes, I know, you did think. So did I during the Book in a Week process. But I thought for seconds and minutes. I did not think for hours, because I had none of those to spare. And neither did you.

What do you have, from your NaNo work? Do you have crap? If you answer anywhere near “Yes,” I want you to step away from the computer, give yourself a hug and some chocolate, and do the happy dance. Because you’re supposed to have crap. And you got it in a month–many of us take a YEAR (or more) to reach that point! You get to start turning that horrible stuff into something better 11 months ahead of schedule. Are you on Twitter? Did you see all the tweets from agents and editors, in varying degrees of tact, asking you NOT to query them about this manuscript on December 1st? The fact that you recognize how bad your first draft is proves you have the skill level and the knowledge of the craft to see that.

Okay, rant finished. But seriously, if you’re feeling disappointed or discouraged or–please, no–like you’ve failed in any way, well, just don’t!  Is there something you particularly hate about the story so far? Wonderful! Take that element and fix it. Figure out what you hate about it, why it makes you want to take the whole manuscript and use it to heat the wood-burning stove this winter, and revise around that problem. Save the AL-approved 1st draft, if you want to reassure yourself that you’re not losing any treasures (but really so you can show yourself how much BETTER that next draft is–and the next, and the next…).

I love NaNo and BIAW. I love the idea of tackling this big a project in such a short time, of riding an adrenalin wave, of producing more words and ideas than you ever thought possible. I browsed through NaNo’s website before writing this blog, and that’s really what the month is supposed to be about. I do not like all the bad feelings that come to some NaNo writers when the adrenalin leaves, and the crash comes. No matter how bad those words look on the page, you have achieved something wonderful.

Let yourself believe that.

Posted in Revising, Somebody Else Says, Uncategorized

Somebody Else Says: Beth Revis

Beth Revis’ Writing it Out blog is one of the regulars on my read list. She’s got a couple of posts this week that I wanted to share. She’s looking back at her latest BIG revision, and she’s posted about the things that did and didn’t work (with ideas about how to fix the latter, next time around). Beth has really thought this out and–while I’m not sure all her steps would work for me–she’s got some great ideas and analysis of the process.

Stop by and check out these posts:

Posted in Revising

Revision: Trickling in the Last Bits

Yesterday, I sent off my revisions of The Writing & Critique Group Survival Guide to my editor. You may now join me in doing the dance of joy.

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I’m happy with the revision. My editor made wonderful suggestions anywhere he thought I should make a change, and it was so great to get the feeling that we’re on the same track with what we want for this book.

But…

That’s not what this post is about. While I was working through the revision, I was thinking about how tricky, but fun, this later stage of writing a book can be. (Oddly enough, as I get ready to write a first draft of my new novel!). On the one hand, it’s tough, almost frightening to look at making even more changes to a book on which you’ve worked so hard to get so far. On the flip side, it is an amazing thing to see how much difference a few words here, and a few more there, can make to tightening a story into something full and polished.

For this revision, I was working with the editor’s suggestions. When I revise fiction, I have feedback from my critique group and those “final” ideas I’ve come up with myself. There’s a character who needs one more layer. Or a plot thread needs to be brought closer to the top of the story. I’m not using this one setting well enough. When I’m at this point, I ask myself (and hopefully answer!) three questions:

  • What?
  • Where?
  • How much?

The What?is what do I need to add? For some reason, at this point, really near being “done,” it’s almost always adding. Mabye I’m good at cutting, or maybe I’m too good, but it’s usually something more I need to put on the page, not less. Do I need to show a certain personality trait more frequently, or more intensely? Should I  connect a subplot to the main plot in another place or two? Is it time to reveal just a little more background info I thought I didn’t need?

Where? is, probably obviously, where in the book do I make this change? Again, I seem to have a usual pattern–I rarely get away with changing things in only one place. Usually, I read through the book (Yes, I will read through the WHOLE book to follow a specific plot thread or the development of one character), and find two or three places to drop a little something in, or highlight something a little more strongly.

How much?  is the biggie for me. Or, I should say, the not-biggie. When I was editing, I was almost afraid to ask a client to add something to the book. When I talked about the need to give a better sense of what a house looked like, or asked the writer to show a character getting more angry, I always found myself holding up my index finger and thumb together—that universal symbol for just this much.  If I didn’t emphasize how few words I thought the paragraph or scene needed, I’d see the author’s eyes light up, and when I saw the project again, there’d often be whole new blocks of text–stretches of sentences and paragraphs with added material.

It’s natural. We don’t always trust ourselves or the power that is contained in a few words, in a single word. Even knowing all this, I faced this last revision with some nervousness. There were a couple of bigger ideas that I needed to highlight more in the book, and I’d left them for last, while I got the smaller, easier changes out of the way. I had, in the back of my mind, the idea that there was a lot of new writing for me to do.

Wrong. A lot of new writing would have been wrong. I added a sentence here, a phrase there, and–honestly–a single word over there. That was it. Just enough to tie things together and make the necessary connections for the reader (and for me!)

As I said, I’m just setting out to write the first draft of my historical YA novel. I’m miles away from this kind of revision on that book. Right now, I’m trying to cope with the idea of all the thousands of actions and events and thoughts I’ll be putting on the page.

I know, though, that at some point, I’ll come back to this close-to-done stage. And, once again, I’ll need to trickle the last changes in lightly, and trust that each, small word will do its job.

Posted in Critique Groups, Critiquing, Revising

Critiques: Writing up the Big Stuff

At my workshop last weekend, for the Redwood Writers, I took the participants through a few of the basics of critiquing:

  • Reading the manuscript
  • Writing the critique
  • Presenting the critique 

After a few minutes of my blathering talking, I had them get into groups and practice these basics. Then I critiqued their critique and we talked out a few things.

One of these things was the overall write-up that I recommend doing for every critique. I had some experienced and strong critiquers in the workshop, and this wasn’t something they were all used to doing. They had good reasons–available time and the size of their groups, and I didn’t–I hope–push them too hard to change the critique methods that were working for them.

I did, though, spend a few minutes mulling over why I think this written critique is important.

What I’m talking about here is the summary a critiquer gives the writer–the page or two of clearly written, full-sentence comments about any big problems the critiquer is seeing in the manuscript. These are comments about things like the overall plot, the character development, the clarity of instructions, and the strength of the author’s voice. Yes, of course, the critiquer has marked these problems as they noticed them on the manuscript pages, but this write-up is an extra step.

Here’s why I think this summary is important:

  • Writing it helps the critiquer clarify their ideas. This doesn’t only help the writer, but pushes the critiquer, too, further along the learning curve we’re all on.
  • The summary saves the critique session from being too rambly. If everybody just makes notes on their pages, then reads through them, the critiques are missing the big picture, the birds-eye view of the manuscript. The critiquers end up focusing on the words and sentences, at a time when the writer may actually need to step back from those words and think about bigger concepts for revision.
  • No matter how supportive and respectful a critique is, the feedback can still feel overwhelming & intimidating. It can be hard for a writer to actually “hear” everything the critiquer is telling them, to absorb and understand it all. Having written comments to look at after the critique session can be invaluable to the author.
  • I am an advocate of the Don’t-Revise-Until-You’ve-Finished-the-Draft school of thought. In other words, if I send in a couple of chapters for my critique group to read, I’m going to keep writing. When I get their comments, I’ll read through them, but then I’ll set them aside until I have written all the way through my current draft–at which time, I’ll look at ALL the comments I’ve received and get ready to revise/write the next draft.
    If you also work this way (yay!), it can be weeks, or months, after you receive a critique that you start incorporating it into your manuscript. If you have to go back through 300 pages (times three or four critiquers) and sort through all the line-by-line comments, you’re going to feel lost before you get started. If you have a summary write-up for every chapter, from every critiquer, you have a solid place to start thinking about your revision. You have a way in.

In my book, The Writing Group Survival Guide, I incorporate this step–the step of writing up the big stuff–into the basic procedures for critiquing. If you’re in a critique group, or have been, was this part of your process?

Leave me your thoughts in the comments. 🙂

Posted in Critique Groups, Critiquing, Revising

Receiving a Critique: What Can YOU Do?

There are two sides to every coin and, almost always, to every situation. This rule applies very well to critique groups.  I’ve always known this, but it’s hitting home again as I work on The Critiquer’s Survival Guide. (Half the book is heading to the editor this week–three cheers!)
I hear a lot of stories about writers worried about how they’ll feel when they get critiqued. Either they’ve had a bad experience in a critique group, or they’re worried about heading into one.  I discuss these situations in my book, and I’m sure I’ll blog about them here.
Today, though, it’s another post. And this one is going to talk about our responsibilities when we arebeing critiqued. Everybody in a critique group trades roles back and forth, and each role–even that of critiquee–has a few tasks that go with it.
When you are being critiqued, you need to:
  • Listen
    You’ve all heard the duct-tape threat; it will be used on any writer who interrupts, defends, or argues in response to a critique. I don’t go QUITE that far. It is important, though, to give the critiquer the same respect (by listening & taking notes) that they have given to reading your work and writing out their feedback.
  • Ask questions.
    I know. I just said not to interrupt, and I’m sticking to that. Write the question down and wait until the critiquers are done talking. You might hear the answer you need, without having to ask. And if you’re truly confused, raise your hand. Ask and be answered, then go back to step 1–listening.
  • Think
    Spend time with the feedback you get and consider each point. Yes, you know your project very well, but you don’t know it perfectly. Fresh eyes, from a strong reader, can provide a solution to the problem you’ve been wrestling with or send your project in a new, brilliant direction. Just because an idea doesn’t resonate with you the first time you hear it, take note and give that idea full consideration when you go over the critique.
  • Revise.
    I know. Of course, revise. But with the critique pages at your side. Look at each comment your critiquers have made and mentally lay that comment aside your project. Does it have validity? Will it improve the writing or the overall book? Is it possible, even if the critiquer’s feedback seems off, that the passage they pointed to is having a problem? And really, really analyze the big critique elements–plot, character, structure, voice. This is what you’ve asked your critique partners to do: dig deep into your project and help you see the best vision for it. You asked, they gave. Now use it.

Yes, of course, my list assumes that you are working with supportive, encouraging, and skilled critiquers. That’s my wish for you, and that’s a big goal you should be shooting for.  You should also, though, be remembering your part of the whole, and making sure you’re shouldering that commitment.

Posted in Critique Groups, Query Letters, Revising, The Writing Path

When to Query

This week, I’m sending out some queries. I’m as sure as I can be that these are queries I need to send, and that my project is where it needs to be to show to an agent. I know, though, that this is a big question I hear lots of writers asking–when is the right time to send that letter?

The answer is, I believe, not until your book is done. Or, if you’re writing an nonfiction book proposal, not until the proposal is done.

There are two things about this answer–first, it might seem obvious. Actually, though, I hear a lot of writers talking about sending queries out before they’ve finished revising their projects. I think they figure that there will be time, while their letter is making its way to the top of the slush pile,  for them to finish that revision. Alert: I sent one email query out at 3:00 in the afternoon and got my reply back at 6:00 that evening. No, it wasn’t a request for more pages, but I’d have been ready if it was.

Why set an agent up to want your book, if you aren’t ready to show them the whole thing? Why risk frustrating them, because you queried too soon? Wait until the book is done.

Which takes us to the second thing about my answer–another question. How do you know when your book is done. Completely done. Beautifully done. Seamlessly done.

You’re never 100% sure. At least I’m not. But you can go through a basic checklist and test your gut reaction to the questions on it. Here we go:

  • Have you written the book from beginning to end?
  • Have you rewritten that book several times?
  • Have your revision passes made substantial changes to plot, character, voice…all the biggies?
  • Have you shown your book to other people, preferably a well-read, deep-reading, serious critique group? More than once?
  • Have you incorporated the feedback of those people into you book? Yes, again, more than once?
  • When you read your project, does it feel cohesive, a complete, seamless entity? Does it feel like…a book?
  • Are you not avoiding thinking about a passage, a scene, or a chapter that jumps out at you as not fitting? Denial about not needing that next piece of chocolate is okay. Denial about fixing your project is not.

Yes, this is a lot of work. And it takes a lot of time. There is no way, though, that this time and energy is a waste.  Nothing that makes your book more ready to hook an agent could be.

Posted in Guest Blogger, NaNoWriMo, Plot, Revising, The Writing Path

Guest Blogger: Martha Alderson

Martha Alderson is a friend, a critique partner, and a wonderful teacher of plot. Her blog, The Plot Whisperer, is a font of information about crafting your fiction, and you can buy Martha’s book and other plot tools at her website, Blockbuster Plots. To celebrate the end of NaNoWriMo, Martha has declared December National Plot Month and is giving daily tips at her blog to help you get started on revising that manuscript.

I asked Martha to stop by and give us just a taste of this next stage, how to look at those tens of thousands of words you just produced and figure out what you’re supposed to do with them.

Welcome, Martha!

Thank you, Becky, for inviting me to guest blog “about the kind of plotting a writer can do when they’ve FINISHED NaNoWriMo.” I agree with you that this is a crucial time–because, as you say–“it’s the first time (if the writers have done such a fast first draft) that they start shaping the story.”

The craft of writing involves taking what the muse has offered during the first draft and shaping the words into a coherent story. This step involves more than rewriting. The craft of writing requires a revisioning of the overall story.

The first draft is all about getting the words on the page.

Now it is time to forget the words.

Instead, stand back and analyze the story as a whole.

Consider the overall structure, how the characters develop and transform, where the gaps and holes appear, how the dramatic action rises and falls, the flow, the pace, the voice, what themes are introduced, and the overall meaning of the story itself.

Plot Tricks & Tips to Prepare for Draft Two

  • Do not read your manuscript for at least a week, preferably longer.
  • Do not show your first draft to others.
  • No editing. (Editing keeps you at the word level. Now is the time to consider the story as a whole.)
  • Break the story into the Beginning, Middle, and End. Each part has specific parameters and is easier to manage that takes place in each section.
  • List the main events that take place in each section.
  • Plot out step-by-step what happens to the main character in each of the three parts, both in terms of the action and in terms of their own individual growth, based on the action.

If you have a draft of a novel, memoir, or screenplay and are at a loss as to how to take your writing to the next level, join me throughout the month of December. I’ll take you through the process of crafting your first draft into a viable story.

Posted in Revising, The Beginning, Writing Books

Les Edgerton’s Hooked

Back in October, I talked about The Writer’s Journey, by Christopher Vogler. In that post, I mentioned Les Edgerton’s book Hooked: Write Fiction That Grabs Readers at Page One & Never Lets Them Go. I said I’d talk more about Edgerton’s book in another post.

So here we are.

With November and NaNoWriMo ending, and the new year heading our way fast, I thought this would be a good time to pick up this thread. Revision is, in a big part, about structure–about what happens when and which scenes go where. Edgerton’s book is solely and completely about the beginnings of a story, but (pardon the pun) that seems as good a place as any to start.

Edgerton talks about a lot of the same things Vogler does—at least in terms of the early part of the hero’s journey. Edgerton may not call everything by the same names, but in his chapters, you’ll find the ordinary world, the inciting incident, the threshold, etc. The big difference, though, between the two books is Edgerton’s emphasis on how quickly we, as writers, have to get those starting points onto the page.

I write fiction for kids–middle-grade and YA readers. These readers are not known for their patience with authors. You can blame it on action movies and video games, or you can credit these kids with the sense and intelligence to recognize and appreciate a tight, fast-moving opener. As someone who, in the past ten years went from reading (and loving) 700-page Victorian novels to devouring 250-page tense and terse, funny and furious YA books—I can say the decade has been a good education in writing.

Because it’s not just kids’ books that move more quickly today; it’s all books. At first, when you realize just how much Edgerton is asking you to do in the first chapter, first scene, first page, first paragraph, it’s intimidating. And part of your brain may go into the “I don’t have to” whine. But keep reading. And go back to the books you’ve lost most in the past couple of years. You’ll see that he’s right.

It’s not just that we’re told over and over that agents, if we’re lucky, read the first five pages. It’s not just that we know most book buyers skim the first page, maybe the last, then make their decision about whether to buy that book or leave it on the shelf where they found it. It’s that, these days, a good story sucks us in from Page 1, hooks us, and goes racing along so quickly that we have to grab on and ride, just to keep up.

This is the kind of story I want to be writing.

Thankfully, Edgerton doesn’t just point out the necessity of this kind of beginning. He gives thorough, detailed information about the big pieces of this skinny little beginning, and he follows up with seriously helpful (and funny) instructions for how to put those pieces together.

If you haven’t read Hooked, take a look. Especially, if you’re looking at a revision, post-NaNo or not, take a look. I think you’ll be glad.

And don’t forget to check out Martha Alderson’s blog, Plot Whisperer for Writers and Readers, all through the month of December, for tips on plotting out your revision. Martha will be guest-blogging here, too, soon!