Posted in Progress, Revision, The Writing Path

Moving On: New Plan, New Path

So for the past few months, I’ve been working to get a draft of the WIP done, for the possibility that I would get accepted into a SCBWI mentorship program. Best laid plans and all that, lots of reasons, that plan didn’t work out.

But I still have my finished draft!

My goal for this next pass has been to work with someone over time to strengthen a few building blocks of my story. The biggest challenges, in all my writing, but especially in my novels are

  • To come up with ideas for strong actions for my hero to take
  • To build a character-driven plot, where the things my  hero does are truly based in the person they are
  • To make my scenes part of a plot arc that grows in tension to the crisis/climax.

I don’t know why these are my sticking points, but they are, so I’ve got to deal with them. The rest of the WIP is still quite the mess, with about a gazillion unanswered questions, undeveloped side threads, and characters who kind of drop in and out of their own subplots at random. But those are all revision areas I feel like I can deal with. I have dealt with them on other projects. But these building blocks…

So I’m hiring an editor. I’ve done this before, to get some help on my first picture book, and the woman I worked with them also does middle-grade and is awesome sauce. She also just did a couple of more picture book edits for me, and her feedback was wonderful and brain-spark inciting. Anyway, she was open to my need for her to work on an earlier draft (let’s not go into how many drafts you can have and still call them “early,” okay?), to focus on a few specifics, and–hopefully, for her sake–to put aside the pain and heartburn of ignoring all the other elements that are still beyond rough.

So the manuscript is out there, if not to the place I originally expected it to be. I have the two picture book critiques to be revising from, as I try to bring two more books up to the as-ready-as-possible stage. And I’m keeping a notebook of Things That Occur To Me about the MG WIP, that I will want to tweak, strengthen, improve when I get that critique back and begin the work of re-stacking the blocks. Maybe even re-carving them.

I love revision, so in many ways, I’m really looking forward to the next step. But I know I’m also in this for the learning process, for understanding more than I do now about those elements I struggle with. I have this sense that now is the time to stop spinning in a circle, to climb out of the skill level I’ve been at for years. If not now, then when, right? So, yes, my end goal is still agent/aquisition/publication, but I’m trying hard not to focus on that goal for a bit (because it tends to play mind games with me.) Instead, my focus will stay on skill-building, strengthening myself as a writer, learning how to weave more power into the scenes I write.

“She made herself stronger by fighting with the wind.”
-Frances Hodgson Burnett, The Secret Garden

 

 

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 Revision

Unkilling Those Backstory Darlings

Yes, “unkilling.” WordPress wouldn’t let me write Killing in my post header, so I had to get creative. Shoot me, already.

On with it…

Yes, we have to be careful about how much backstory we drop into our manuscripts. It sure feels like, unless I’m reading an epic fantasy or a long family drama, that less and less backstory is being used today. And, honestly, as a reader, I’m fine with that. I like spare prose, I like tight storytelling, I like characterization that the author has managed to draw fully in a very few words.

As a writer, I’m more than fine with it…as a goal. That doesn’t mean I don’t struggle with it. Especially in a historical novel in which the MC’s freedom is being seriously limited by her mother’s past. Especially in a picture book in which I seem to need to know lots about the two characters’ past together, none of which am I giving six actual words to explain on the page.

So, yes, as a writer, I want to encourage you to kill your backstory darlings. In revision, train yourself to throw up a mental penalty flag (Wow! A sports metaphor from me!) every time you start talking about the past, or describing a character, or discussing a relationship, etc., etc…for more than a few paragraphs. Maybe for more than two paragraphs. Honestly, maybe for more than two sentences. Cut and…kill.

But here’s the thing. I’m not sure those deaths have to be final.

(Sorry, but that’s the scariest zombie you’ll see at my blog.)

This backstory is development. When you’re writing a first draft, you’re supposed to let things flow. You’re still learning. Heck, I’m on the second draft, and I’m still learning. Oh, wait…picture book….thirteen drafts…sigh. You get the point.

At some point, though, you’re going to get rid of a humongous chunk of backstory.

Here’s the question.

Do you hit the Delete key, or do you pick Cut-and-Paste?

Your choice, obviously, and it’s going to depend a lot on your process and your memory. Me, if I think I’m going to want to use something in the future, I don’t get rid of it. I don’t trust myself to remember what it was, or the absolute brilliance with which I wrote it. (Yes, you’re right. 98.7323% of the time, I look back at it and either don’t need it or the brilliance has completely faded.) But I don’t see a problem with keeping a file of backstory that you’ve taken out of your manuscript.

Your readers do need some information about the characters and the world they’re moving in. It’s a rare novelist, and I can’t name one off the top of my head, who can give the reader everything through dialogue and pure action. As you cut and cut, you’re also going to be trickling.

A line here. A few words there.

Odds are you’re not going to pull the exact wording from that backstory file. But tons of writers use character worksheets, or make collages to represent the settings they want to create. What do you think? Would a backstory file be a good refresher for you, a reminder of all the things you once knew and wrote down about this story? Would this file point you in the right direction to the few words you need now?

Thoughts? Comments? Do you delete, or do you copy?

Posted in Character, Revision

Writing Lessons from Tiffany Aching

Okay, Tiffany Aching isn’t Steven Tyler. But if we’re learning anything from Jo Knowles’ “unintentional blog series” about Tyler, it’s that writing advice comes where you find it. And, probably, most people would agree that Terry Pratchett would be right up there with authors we could all learn from.

BTW, if you didn’t know who Tiffany Aching is without that Wikipedia link, stop reading this post , go out to the bookstore or get online, and buy yourself a copy of The Wee Free Men. If you’re smart, you’ll just buy the whole series now and save yourself the extra gas and shipping charges. And then be prepared to spend the next few days laughing hysterically, having moments of philosophical clarity, and pretty much bowing down to the genius that is Pratchett.

Anyhoo…

Tiffany Aching is a witch. Not your typical witch, unless you’re talking typical to Discworld. She’s a witch for many reasons–the first and foremost probably being that she chooses to be one. Another reason, though, is that Tiffany has First and Second Thoughts. Occasionally, she has Third Thoughts, but when that happens her Second Thoughts step in and say, “Let’s all calm down, please, because this is quite a small head.”  (She’s only nine years old.) Tiffany’s thoughts let her see things more clearly than other people; they let her stand outside herself and observe what’s really going on, separated from her own feelings at the moment. It’s a powerful ability, better, in my opinion, than all the magic the wizards at Unseen University can do.

So where does the writing lesson come in? Here: To really use these thoughts, to really see past all the illusion and even all the things she’d like to believe, Tiffany has to be still. She has to, as another witch tells her early in the book, “open your eyes…and then open your eyes again.” She has to look.

I’m a bit stuck on my picture book revision. I’m at the point where I really have to get closer to the dynamic/relationship/conflict between my young hero and the other character. Which means–yes, here we go again–really figuring out what each of them wants and what that want makes them do. Once again: goal+action. You’d think I’d have it down by now.

All weekend, I was busy with weekend stuff, but I thought maybe I could let the problem bubble away in the back of my mind and see what that back-of-my-mind came up with. The internet is full of writing articles and blogs about people getting brainstorms in the shower or while they’re cooking dinner or just before they go to sleep. Well, I occasionally get this happening to me, but not all that often. For whatever reason, when my brain is showering or cooking or drifting into unconsciousness, it is pretty busy doing just that. The membrane between front and back seems to be relatively non-porous.

Apparently, when I want to figure out a story problem, I have to–yes, you’re getting it–I have to be still. Like Tiffany.

So this week, I’m scheduling time for stillness. I will take myself away from the computer. I will stretch out and close my eyes. I will open them to look at my characters. And then I will open them again.

I’m betting I actually get somewhere.

Posted in Revision

2nd Draft: Focusing the Telescope on…?

So, that first draft is done. The last chapters are off to my critique group. I’m reading and reading and ordering more books and reading, trying to get some more history and psychology into my brain.

I’ll also be cleaning my office–all those piles that have just gotten added to and sort of pushed into neatness the last few months need to be dealt with. I need to get the 1st draft binder on the shelf, start one for the 2nd draft, get all the notes I made while I was writing toward “The End” at least stuck in there for me to contemplate.

And then I’ll get revising.

For me, the 2nd draft is a huge deal, but–at the same time–another pass where so much doesn’t get touched. In my first book, when I looked at my first draft, the thing that jumped out of me was that my hero was way too passive–he was playing sidekick to his sidekick. So the 2nd draft was all about turning that around, putting him in charge, getting him to take the risks and have the failures and figure out the next thing to do–in other words, actually turn him into a hero.

Yes, of course, I revised smaller things to–I worked big-time on his goals, I’m sure, and played with setting and dialogue as well. But the revision had a main focus–that “thing” I had to change before I could really move on. Again.

For Caro’s story, I’ve got two biggies. The one I’ve talked about before–letting go of the 2nd plotline (and stashing it somewhere safe to write into another book) and bringing the storyline I’m choosing now to the forefront. The second thing I have to do is really figure out my antagonist–Caro’s mom. I have to get much closer to who she is and what she does–both in terms of making things really hard for Caro and in terms of all the hours of the day that she isn’t on the page. I have to understand her fear and come up with actions she takes, because of that fear.

So…to start, I’m reading. More history on immigrants in Chicago, on how bad things were and how long the problems lasted. The fact that people were fighting this battle for at least two generations (and, yes, are still fighting it) is a big part of my story, and I need to hone in on that sense of This is STILL happening?! I’ll also be reading about mothers and daughters, the not-good stuff…okay, the really not-good stuff. Light, pleasure reading? Um…no. Has to be done, though.

And somewhere in here, I’ll be plotting. I just downloaded the beta version of Scrivener for Windows, and I’m really excited about that corkboard. I’m going to dig out some of my plot books and think about connections and tension and layering.

Does this sound like it’ll take a while? It sure does to me. But it is part of the process. The first draft did a great job showing me what I don’t have figured out–and I’m going to get at least some of that cleared up before I start writing again. Will I go on and on and on forever before I revise. Nah. Don’t worry. I can only sustain not-writing for so long. Pretty soon, half the books will be read, some of the plot will be figured out, and I’ll start itching. 🙂

Until then, though…

Posted in First Drafts, Plot, Revision

This is My Brain. This is My Brain on Plot.

This post is dedicated to Terri Thayer, for listening and not once telling me I’m crazy.

What my brain tells me when I announce that, in the second draft of this WIP, we may be dropping one entire, MAJOR plotline:

  • Wow!
  • Wouldn’t this be a betrayal of Character X? Who just happens to have been a real person in real life that you totally love and admire and want to write about?
  • Hold on!  Does that mean you don’t have to finish the 1st draft??!!!
  • You could buy fewer index cards for the re-plotting party.
  • You’d be writing less broadly and more deeply. That would be a good thing.
  • Are you just copping out? Is this just the cowardly easy easier road to take?
  • Does this mean you’re thinking of a second book? Another historical fiction? You swore there’d be no more historical fiction!
  • You’ll cry more, if you write it this way.
  • This story is supposed to be about the girl and her mother. Have you seen the mother on the page yet? No, you haven’t. Because that other plotline keeps getting in the way. Get back to the mother.
  • You’ve written almost 250 pages, and now you’re telling me it’s a different story?

What I tell my brain:

  • Shut up and let me write.
Posted in Picture Books, Revision

What’s Harder about Picture Books—#4,385

Okay, maybe I should have said “different” in the post title, instead of “harder.” As I work through my first picture-book attempt, I’m finding lots of things that do just qualify as different, and some that are actually easier than, oh, say, a historical novel. Did someone say *cough*, “Research?”

This week, though, I’m heading into some more revision, and I had a lightbulb moment about what exactly I’ve been struggling with.

When I revise a novel, I work in threads. Or chunks. Or arcs…however you want to describe it. Basically, if I know that a character’s arc isn’t strong enough, I’ll follow her story all the way through the book, tweaking her interactions with other characters, amping up her responses to events, making connections tighter and layers deeper. Or if I drop a new plot point in toward the end of the book, I go through and plant seeds for that point in earlier chapters, making sure (hopefully!) that they mesh well with the rest of the story. The nice thing about this is that it lets me pay attention to something specific and not bounce around as randomly as I would if I were just revising page-by-page with whatever I noticed not working.

The other nice thing is that I can spend some time around each of these threads. As I work, I do notice other things to play with on another revision pass, and I spend more time with my characters, themes, and voice–getting to know them all that much better. It’s not a fast process, but I think the hours are valuable and add to the quality of my project.

Here’s the thing about a picture book. Each “thread” has maybe a dozen sentences to it.  Even if I stare at each of those sentences and think (a la Winnie-the-Pooh) really hard about them, I’m not getting hours worth of revising time for any of them. I realized this was a problem, when I’d tried to revise about a half-page of text and hit overwhelmed. Because…yeah, I was trying to revise three character threads at once.         

I can’t DO that.

So, this week, I’ll be taking it a thread at a time. Which may sound easier, and–in terms of keeping my brain INSIDE my skull, will be. In terms of letting me dig into my story, though, really immerse myself in the characters and plot, I’m just not sure. Even if each revision thread goes quickly, I’m not sure that I can shift onto another and another that quickly. Still…if I spend a half hour or hour per thread each day, I should have another solid revision done by the end of the week, and that’s a goal I can live with.

How do you revise? And does it vary for you depending on the length (or other quality) of the manuscript?

Posted in Dialogue, First Drafts, Revision

Dialogue: My Least Favorite/Most Favorite Writing Tool

What’s the toughest thing for me to write? Dialogue. What’s the writing element I probably revise the most? Dialogue. What’s my favorite, favorite thing to read in a book? Good dialogue.

(Hint: I’ve been reading & rereading some of S.J. Rozan’s Lydia Chin books. You want great, snappy, fast, real, funny character-specific dialogue? Go pick up some of this series.)

Usually, when I talk about dialogue, I put a lot of emphasis on the dialogue beats–the brief bits of action, reaction, or internal thought that surround the spoken words. Just ask my critique partners. But, in my own writing, I’m actually okay with that part. It seems to come smoothly and simply from my brain into the computer. It’s the actual words the characters are saying that I truly struggle with. Through many revisions.

Here’s a common process:

  • First draft, I just have them saying all the wrong things. I haven’t quite figured out a character’s scene goal or conflict and so I stick in some words, any words, just because I know I need some dialogue there.
  • Next draft, those words just disappear. I get closer to the things these people should be talking about, arguing about, but-oh, boy–are the new words clunky. Think a really bad ventriloquist. Or the villain with the big moustache in a melodrama.
  • Next draft, I’m smoothing things out. Characters are talking more like people, less like puppets. Except, often, they’re all talking like the same person.
  • Next draft, I work on differentiation. Again, I go through a clunky phase, using the same words too often or pushing phraseology too far toward an extreme. Finally, I start to see true individual traits and styles come through.

And it goes on from there. Sound familiar to anyone?

So why do I say that dialogue is my least andmost favorite tool? Because, when you get it right, it’s magic. Like Rozan’s. Good dialogue has more power in it than any amount of description or internal thought. It conveys story information, delivers characterization, causes conflict, and makes us laugh and cry.

And achieving that, in our own stories, is more than worth the struggle.