Major Rewrites: Revising in Layers or Moving Mountains One Stone at a Time, Pt. 2

Welcome to part 2 of Revising in Layers or Moving Mountains One Stone at a Time.

If you have major novel rewrite ahead, the task can seem overwhelming. My goal with these posts is to break the process down in order to make your revisions less daunting.

If you didn't read part 1, you can find it here. Last week I outlined the first four steps:

1. Brainstorming
2. Outling the existing manuscript
3. Thinning
4. Subplotting

After all your new characters and subplots are outlined as described in step 4, it's time to move on to step 5.

5. Integrating
This is where the layers come in. One subplot or character at a time, I add the subplot outlined items to my manuscript outline. For me, this is just a couple words with an arrow pointing to where I'll insert it. In this step, I can arrange and rearrange the new subplot points until I have them where they make the most sense.

When I'm pleased with my outline, I add the new writing to the manuscript. Depending on how extensive my new subplots and characters are, this can entail anything from a couple sentences to entirely new scenes.

I continue this process until each and every new character and subplot is added to the manuscript. During this process, I don't worry about whether or not it flows. I'm simply add the information I need.

By working in layers, I can concentrate on one subplot or character at a time which allows me to fully enrich each new item and add necessary depth.

6. Comprehensive Editing
I now view the manuscript as a rough draft, so it's time to do a thorough edit with a critical eye. I need to see how it flows, if the new plot points and characters ended up in a logical place, if there are any places I need to insert new information. I need to examine if the new characters are in all the scenes they need to be in, and to look for proper transitions, pace, tone, and appropriate shifts in existing text.

7. Polishing
After making the necessary changes, I always do a second edit to ensure it's ready for an editor's or beta readers' eyes.

8. Happy Dancing
This was a huge undertaking. You overcame the discouragement, dug in and got the job done. Everybody click here to do the dance!

The words, "major rewrite" are the last thing most writers want to hear, but I hope that by having the tools to conquer what can seem like an impossible task, you can approach the process with a can-do attitude. And that's what I'm here to tell you--you CAN do it! So, get offline and start brainstorming!

Melinda Friesen, author of Enslavement, writes novels for teens and people like her who love to read YA. In two weeks, her daughter is getting married, so her writing time is succumbing to wedding planning.

Always Know Yourself Before...

During my trip to New York, I saw a lot of interesting sites, and had a great conference experience at Book Expo America.

Before visiting the city, I had a chance to go to Caffe Lena in Saratoga Springs, where the likes of Bob Dylan and other folk musicians have performed. That night, it was a unique blend of blues--sliding guitar, tuba, and trombone. But most fascinating was what I encountered in the bathroom:

"Always know yourself before making a decision that may change your life"

While the walls were covered in inspirational quotes, I picked this one above the others because it's so deceptively simple: "Always know yourself before making a decision that may change your life." Because better decisions are made when you have your own best interests in mind. And knowing what those interests are is key in determining whether a decision is a good fit.

As with anything, this can be applied to writing at all levels:

Crafting stage: When you are still in the process of editing your work, and getting it critiqued by others, make sure feedback resonates with the story you want to write. Don't assume that someone knows more than you, or that negative feedback means you have to change the story entirely.

How to Know Yourself: Think, reflect, and figure out which feedback resonates with you most. Be with it for awhile to see what sticks and what doesn't. That way, you can save having to revert to a previous draft when someone else's recommendations aren't working (though this isn't unheard of--I've had to do it myself).

Agented/publishing/selling stage: From what I understand, this can be a perilous stage because it involves a lot of waiting. And waiting can inevitably morph into unnecessarily questioning yourself. Or settling for a deal that might not be right for you in the long run in order to relieve immediate stress.

How to Know Yourself: Be sure of the direction you want your career to go. Make the decisions that honor that, even if it means waiting to see yourself in print. Because settling for something lesser means possibly having to undo it later on--and that isn't always an option.

What about you? In what ways do you know yourself? And how do these inform your decisions going forward? 

Lessons Learned: Writing as Performance Art

Last week, I heard a presentation that discussed performance anxiety, given by music professor John Masserini. As I listened, I realized the tips he gave could also be applied to writing. Because all creative pursuits, whether they be art, music, or theater, share the same anxieties.

Translating this...

       

...to this. 

And as artists, we can use these anxieties and translate them into bigger truths. Such as:


1. You are the vessel.

This was probably the most useful tip of all. When John coached his music students on performing, he reminded them they were just a vessel for the music--that the audience wouldn't be focused on them--but on the music itself. It was the the notes, instead of the person playing them, that truly mattered.

And it got me thinking about how nervous I've gotten when putting my writing out there, and worrying about what people will think of me. When all this time, I've only been a vessel for the words that choose to come through my fingers and onto the page. This helps takes the onus off me as a person, and puts it where it belongs--on the story.

Elizabeth Gilbert alluded to this sort of thing during this fabulous TED Talk (it's lengthy, but definitely worth watching):




It's worth mentioning that Elizabeth Gilbert's use of "vessel" (8:41) is different from what I'm implying. I'm treating vessel as a conduit, a way to sail somewhere, rather than the full vat of creativity, or, the boat itself. As writing vessels, we write the words, but they do not necessarily always come directly from us.


2. Establish a routine.

This seems pretty basic, and as writers we hear it a lot, but John took it a bit further in his talk. As in, when his students are preparing for a recital for 7 p.m. on a Friday, he advises that they run through the repertoire at the same time (7 p.m.) on the Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday before the performance. That way, by the time Friday rolls around, the student's brain will be attuned and accustomed to running through the repertoire by the time they have to do it in front of a crowd.

In writing, the equivalent of this is anything potentially big that could happen along the way (meeting with an agent, editor, or perhaps pitching at a conference). So, for example, if you have a pitch appointment with an agent at noon, run through your pitch at noon as many days as you can before that meeting. Then, it will seem like it's old hat.

One final note about routine: even though we often hear that we "should" establish some sort of routine, it can sometimes be easy to brush off as, "Well, that's not my process." I told myself that for years. "I'm not an early riser, so I'll write at night." But recently, one of my MFA writing instructors recommended writing with the "best brain"--which means first thing in the day. And after trying that for the past few weeks, I've realized how much of a positive difference it makes. By getting my writing done in the morning, I get to do the thing I love most first--and then I'm not as resentful of the time taken away by other things throughout the day.


3. The art is in the recovery.

As a former pianist, one of my biggest anxieties was making a mistake during a recital. John admitted that mistakes were inevitable, but he advocated going on anyway. "The art is in the recovery," he said. A bad note may happen--but it's the notes that come afterward that count.

And of course, this can be applied to all stages of writing. Rejections at the query stage--what writers do afterward is what counts. Do they quit? Or do they hunker down at the desk and strive to write something better? Same goes for abysmal sales. What does the writer do next? Give up? Or write the next book?

Mistakes, nerves, and insecurities are inevitable in music, art, writing and life. But if we can learn ways around them, and not make them a hindrance, we'll go farther than we thought possible.

What about you? What are your fears? Where is your focus? When are you at your best? And how does all this translate to your writing?

A love letter to disappointments

One of these days, just for scientific purposes, I suggest you sit down and tally up some of those bumps in the road you've hit.

Not if it's just going to depress you, of course. But if you're having one of those days when you've seen a book deal perilously close to yours, or you see a former querying trench buddy in the bookstore, or you're staring at your perpetually empty inbox, hitting refresh every five seconds and thinking Please, just this once, let it be easy, this might be useful to you.

It might surprise you a little bit how many of those moments you'll find once you get going. Once you catalog all the crushing close-calls, the maybe-but-not-quites, and the sure things that you still can't believe didn't work out, you'll find other things. Smaller things. Form rejections that hit you at just the wrong moment. A promising start that fizzled out. All those little work-life balance misfires that made you think maybe you couldn't do this after all.

If you're feeling particularly tough, you can put yourself back there. Think about how you reacted in that moment: whether you sobbed into your pillow, dived for the takeout menus, laughed bitterly with your friends over drinks, or just sat in front of your computer and quietly scrubbed that particular happy ending from your mind.

But the most important thing to remember isn't that those moments didn't work out. It's that you kept going, even if you had to dig in with both hands. That passion, ambition, and drive is something that deserves to be recognized. The fire that's gotten me this far isn't always a pleasant thing to live with, but I'm a little in awe of it nonetheless.

There's a bit of a trap inherent in this exercise, though. It's tempting to think that, after all that hard work, the easy part has to be right around the corner. Even though logically we know there's no such thing as a guarantee in this business, we're writers. We love a good narrative.

But the point, at least for me, is to remind myself that if I didn't give up during any of that, I'm certainly not going to give up now. It might not be all the reassurance I was looking for. But it's a pretty powerful feeling all the same.

Have a great weekend, everyone, and happy writing!

Feeling Small

I just flew in from visiting my father last night, so I've still got a bit of jetlag. During my flights (I had to change planes), I sat next to the window. And as we took off and landed, I got to look out the window to the ground below. We passed over towns, and I saw houses the size of models. I saw cars and semi-trucks like little specs on the road. And I thought about how each of those cars carried someone driving them, and probably some passengers, too. And each of those houses held people. And every spec of light, when we were flying at night, belonged to a light source, maybe a house or a window.

In made me feel incredibly small.

For those times when we feel the world owes us, when we feel that we deserve respect. Just realize we are only one of millions of people. We are only another spec on the road to publication. And I don't say this to try and discourage anyone...because looking at it that way IS discouraging. I say it to ground those who believe they are the only special ones out there, that the industry OWES them. It owes you nothing.

Every person on that road below me was an individual, with their individual problems and individual ideas. Each spec on that road and each light, was someone with dreams.

So are your dreams more important than all of those people? Nope. Not really. The only person it is more important to...is you.

So how can we make OUR dreams rise above the millions? How can we make our dream into a reality? Well, some of those specs only THINK of their dreams; they never DO anything about it. So the fact you are reading this, brings you one step closer to your dream. And still, even some of those only do something for so long before they give up. In each step, we have obstacles. As each obstacle is set before us, we have the choice to become a spec once again or keep going. So consider each obstacle, each rejection, each failure.  How will you treat them? Will you be offended? Will you think the vast world owes you? Because, if you do, then all that happens is that you float back to the level of a spec, blending in with the masses of dream wishers. Instead, take it as a journey. Though millions of people want a dream, only a few persevere.

To rise above the millions of dream wishers, you have to climb.