Decisions, Decisions; or How Do You Know When You're Doing It Right?--Part 2

I discovered I had more to say on this topic, so we're revisiting it this week.

My second edit of "The Daughters of August Winterbourne" is all but complete. I have to edit the epilogue, and then I'd like to give the last couple of chapters a once-over to make sure I didn't take out anything that should have been left in, or vice versa. During the course of this edit, I've trimmed out almost 40,000 words, to bring the total words down to around 150,000. I was aiming for 100,000, but this may be as close as I can get, at least for now. On the whole, I'm reasonably pleased with this edit; the writing is now much cleaner, and a lot of excess verbiage has been cleared out to let the story shine through better. After letting it rest for a couple of weeks, I plan to skim through one last time looking for superfluous passages. Then another couple of weeks of rest, and I can hopefully start going through on my "beauty pass", wherein I add back in some of the small details to help with setting and characterization, things like smells and sounds and such. And then, maybe, the book will be ready for the light of day.

I'm still struggling with two important questions, though:

1) Am I starting the story in the right place?

I begin the story with Celia Winterbourne landing her father's airship the day before she goes off to college. Would it be better to skip that and go right to her arrival in Oxford? If so, how do I work in some of the detail from the current beginning? I think it's important to show up front how passionate she is about airships and flying them. One thought would be to have her fly the airship to Oxford, but since she's supposed to meet two of the characters with whom she interacts throughout the book at the train station, I'd have to figure out a different--but equally effective way--to introduce those two characters. It's a bit of a puzzle. For the time being, I'm inclined to leave things the way they are, but I may end up changing my mind after all.

2) Am I telling the story from the correct POV?

So there I am, 9/10ths of the way through my second edit pass, when I start to wonder...would this be a better story if I told it in the first person? Would Celia be a more compelling character if we could see the world through her eyes, instead of at one remove?

Part of me says that yes, it would be a better story if written in the first person. I'd be able to tell you more about Celia directly, instead of having to rely on what she shows the world. But part of me likes the third-person POV for this story; plus, in the next volume, the narrative track splits between Celia and another character, with a few other characters stealing a scene here and there. If I switch to first person, I'll lose that.

But just for comparison purposes, here's the first draft of the first two paragraphs as originally written:

The airship Sophie's Lightning gleamed golden in the late afternoon sun as it hung over the grassy meadow just outside the village of Windmill Hill. The errant breezes from the ocean would have made landing the craft a challenge for a lesser pilot, but Celia Winterbourne had been piloting her father's airships since the age of eleven. Eight years of practice had made her skilled in all the craft's nuances. Her fingers flew over the control panel, pulling levers to make minute adjustments to the rudder and the seven small propellers that helped guide the airship.

The control deck was open to the warm August air, giving Celia excellent visibility on three sides. There were window panes that could be put up in case of inclement weather, but the day had been so fine that she felt no need for them, even when the ship was cruising high above the English countryside. Taking careful note of the landing markers as well as the windsock, she made yet another adjustment to the starboard-side propellers, swinging the tail of the ship slightly to port. Perfect! A touch to another control, and the graceful ship set down precisely beside its dock, with only the most gentle of bumps to tell her they had landed. She grabbed a green flag and waved it out the front window as a signal for the waiting attendants to come anchor the ship in place.

And here are the same paragraphs re-written in first person:

The grassy meadow outside the village of Windmill Hill looked lush and soft in the late afternoon sunlight as Sophie's Lightning hovered over it in preparation for landing. Seated at the pilot's station, I kept my hands close to the ship's controls. I've been flying Papa's airships for the past eight years, since I was eleven, so I knew from experience that no matter how clear and still the day, breezes from the nearby ocean could always cause problems on landing.

As if reading my thoughts, a stray gust caught the Lightning's tail and swung it to port. I touched the control to send increased power to the aft port steering propeller, and the airship obediently swung back into line. I smiled. "Good girl," I said, patting the control panel in front of me.

The control deck was open to the warm August air; I'd decided that it was too nice a day to put up the glass window panes, even when we were at altitude. Besides, having the windows down gives me better visibility, at least on three sides, and when I'm piloting, I like to see as much as I can.

I looked down and took note of the landing markers, as well as the windsock, and noticed that the ship's tail still wanted to swing to port. I made another adjustment to the control; then, before the breeze could catch her again, I set the ship down precisely on her landing marks. I felt only the gentlest of bumps to let me know that we were down, and I sighed. Our summer idyll was over; I grabbed the green flag to signal the ground crew to come tether the ship down, but at the same time, I couldn't help feeling a little melancholy. In all likelihood, it would be next summer before the Lightning and I would be aloft together again.

Which is a really rough draft, but enough of one to show me that the story could conceivably be told in first person -- but that it would change the character of the story. It would still be a good story, but it would be a different story. Since there are a lot of things I like about the story the way it is now, I think I'll leave it in third person (unless someone comes up with a compelling reason to do otherwise).

Again, how do you know for sure whether or not a decision is right? The answer is that you don't always. Sometimes, you have to try it both ways and see which you like better.

What other sorts of decisions have you faced as a writer? How did you make your decision? Have you ever changed your mind later?

Happy Holidays; or, Celebrating With Your Characters

The holidays are such a crazy time of year. Not only do they wreak havoc with our schedules, our sleep patterns, and even (I think) our brain cells, but they often leave us with little time to focus on writing. I've scraped out a few words this past week--some of them are even good ones, I think--but my current WIP is still mired in the doldrums that are The Middle Of The Story.

One way to liven things up is to celebrate the holidays with your characters. When I was a kid, I loved reading stories that included Christmas customs. I adored reading about what presents Ma and Pa Ingalls gave Laura and Mary, and how they celebrated the holiday.

Last year at this time, I was chortling happily over the first book in my current series, The Daughters of August Winterbourne, and having my main character, Celia, meeting with her love interest, Nicholas, under the mistletoe for a stolen kiss ... and the consequences thereof turned out to be far greater than planned! I reveled in their shy exchange of gifts, lavished pages of description on the balls they attended, and even chattered happily about their Christmas shopping trips.

I'm editing that section of the story now, and guess what? Some of the detail that I found so fascinating to write...is actually pretty boring to read. It might be important to know that Nicholas gives Celia a locket for Christmas; but we don't need to know what everybody gives everyone. If a gift will become important later in the story, then you certainly need to mention it, but otherwise, merely saying "they exchanged gifts" will probably suffice for most situations.

Likewise, we probably don't need to go on for pages and pages describing all of the house's decorations in loving detail. We don't need to know every carol they sing, every delicacy they eat. If the setting is important to the story, then include a few vivid details and let the reader's mind fill in the rest. Otherwise, that sort of thing is probably best left to Dickens.

The exception to this, of course, would be if you were describing holiday customs that were unfamiliar to the majority of your readers. It's amazing how easily one can evoke a holiday picture using just a few key phrases that are common to many people's experience (mention a kids' table, a silver tinsel Christmas tree, and the fact that the seats on the dining room chairs are all covered in clear plastic, and your readers will have a pretty good picture of a certain type of family and their celebrations). But if you're describing a ritual from a less mainstream culture--or even one you've made up--a little more detail might be necessary.

What sorts of holiday celebrations have you included in stories? How much detail do you, as a reader, want/need?

Trust The Process; or, Sneaky Inner Editor Is Sneaky

Writing this week has been a bit of a struggle, and I think I've figured out why.

Now that the pressure of NaNoWriMo is off, I've slowed my pace a little, trying to avoid things like the 5,000 word info-dump airship description. I'm trying to be more analytical up front and figure out which scenes are really needed and which ones are not. I'm trying to be more careful in my word choices, in making sure to show not tell, in writing believable dialogue.

In other words, my Inner Editor has crept out of her box and taken over. And that spells disaster.

Why is this a problem, you ask? After all, if you're writing better stuff up front, that means less editing on the back end, right?

And that would be true...except that, in my case, the presence of Inner Editor during the writing phase usually stifles the story to such an extent that there might not ever be a back end, because I'll never get it finished. So that doesn't really help any, either.

Still, my first instinct is to try not to produce another 275,000 word behemoth. Those are just difficult to deal with. Especially when cutting them into two more reasonably-sized pieces simply doesn't work.

But then, on the same day, I found two articles that made me re-think that decision.

The first was an article in the Irish Times, where the author was privileged to sit in on a writing workshop with author Terry Pratchett. You really should go and read the whole thing, but I'll post the bit that got my attention here.

At the end of the workshop, Mr. Pratchett listed his three secrets of writing the perfect book. The third one was the one that caught my attention:


“First draft: let it run. Turn all the knobs up to 11. Second draft: hell. Cut it down and cut it into shape. Third draft: comb its nose and blow its hair. I usually find that most of the book will have handed itself to me on that first draft. I don’t know how. It has to do with my subconscious – the subconscious of someone who’s been doing it for a long time."

It sounds like good advice. Let it run, and turn all the knobs up to 11. Cutting into shape can happen later.

And then I found Delia Sherman's blog entry on "How To Survive A First Draft". It's another good read, and you should go and do just that. But this was the bit that seemed to be calling out to me:

"3) Bull on through regardless, throwing words at the wall in the hope that some will stick. One member of my writing group, when writing her first draft, writes scenes that seem to happen in Real Time, in which the characters sit around cooking dinner or mending harness while talking about the weather or the crops or their love lives for PAGES AND PAGES, which is fun for us to read, but not ultimately useful to the plot or the structure of the novel...She doesn't rewrite them until she's finished the draft, at which point they either disappear or get so completely rewritten that maybe only the setting and one line of dialogue survive from the original. She finds writing them immensely useful, though, however seemingly inefficient, for getting to know characters, for creating an atmosphere or details of her world."

Wow. Yes, that's actually what I seem to do, too. I write about things in nauseating detail, things I know aren't needed for the final draft. But writing scenes and details like these are what helps me to find the heart of the story. And therefore, practical or not, I need to just tell Inner Editor to sit down, shut up, and wait her turn.

(By the way, when you go read that blog entry, don't forget to scroll down and read the comments, because there is wisdom to be found there as well. Like this little gem from Ellen Kushner: "...we sometimes criticize books that are *too* tightly-written as being "only the Good Parts version" . . . . My friends, do not fear Dialogue! and Description! and Mood and Scene-Setting and.....!")

So what it all comes down to is that I need to keep reminding myself to Trust The Process. Write the draft now, edit it later. Give the characters room to breathe, and they will help me find the missing heart to the story. Editing can -- and will -- come later.

Do other people have trouble trusting the process? Is it possible to make changes to the process and still have it work?

It's October 14, Do You Know Where Your Plot Is; or, NaNoWriMo, Coming Soon

I looked at my calendar today and felt a rush of panic mingled with a dose of anticipation.

It's October 14.

Which means that NaNoWriMo is just over two weeks away.

And I don't know where my plot is.

Now, this is not as bad as it could be. For instance, on October 14, 2006, I hadn't even heard of National Novel Writing Month (a.k.a. NaNoWriMo). And yet, November 1 found me pounding away at the keyboard of my laptop. November 30 had me well over the 50,000 word "finish line," and before Christmas, I'd brought my first NaNoNovel in at right around 100,000 words.

The problem is that back then, I didn't really have a goal, other than writing a novel. But this year, my plan is to try to write the second book of the Celia Winterbourne trilogy. And I don't know what happens in this book.

All right. I know a few things. I know that it starts with Celia sitting high in a tree, looking down over a gypsy encampment, on what should have been her wedding day. And I'm pretty sure that it ends in an airship over the Atlantic Ocean. I even know a few of the things that need to happen in between. (For a look at those, check out my story synopsis on the NaNoWriMo website.)

What has me in a panic is that I'm not sure what the story arc needs to be for this middle book in the series. I have a much better idea of the story arc for the third book, but it's not time to write that yet -- especially since things that happen in the second book will affect the plot of the third. At the moment, I'm worried that this second book will end up feeling like nothing more than a placeholder, a place to kill time while waiting for the third book to happen. There needs to be a satisfying amount of action and character growth to make the story worth telling.

I suppose I just need to knuckle down, shove Inner Editor back into her dungeon for the month, and keep reminding myself to write first and edit later. But that's not always the easiest thing in the world to do.

I also don't want a repeat of NaNoWriMo 2008, where I decided to write the sequel to my 2006 NaNoNovel. That year, I didn't finish until March, and when I did, I was left with a 280,000 word behemoth that I still haven't figured out what to do with (except, perhaps, to print it up and use it as a really effective doorstop).

On the other hand, maybe if I have fewer story details going in, I'll have an easier time bringing the story in at a reasonable length. (I'm still trying to trim the first book down from its original 186,000 word length -- so far, I've cropped 11,000 words out of it!)

So is anyone else attempting NaNoWriMo this year? Or have you set some other writing goals for yourself?

(p.s. For anyone who is doing NaNoWriMo and hasn't already done so, my NaNo handle is arwensouth, if you'd like to add me to your buddies list.)

(p.p.s. Did anyone fall off their chair because I actually posted this on Thursday for a change?)

Finding The Path; or, Which Way From Here?

The Internet is a big and wonderful place, full of websites that are helpful, useful, or just plain strange. It's like a library that's hyped up on caffeine, speed, hallucinogens, and maybe a rum-and-coke, all at once. Anything you want to know how to do, just ask the Internet. Someone, somewhere, will have advice for you. Probably several someones.

So it's not surprising that when you're an aspiring author, the Internet has plenty of advice to offer. "Success will be yours," says site after site, "if you only do this one very important thing."

The problem is, no one can agree on what that one thing is. Some say, "Find your voice." Others say, "Write every day." Still others say things like, "Write only what you're passionate about," "Eschew adverbs and dialogue tags," and "There is no good writing; there is only bad writing and good rewriting."

Can all of these helpful, well-meaning, earnest advice givers be right? Well, yes, they can -- just not all of them, for everyone. Each one has found his or her golden rule, the one thing that works best for them. The problem is that what works fabulously well for one person can result in utter failure for another.

This is because, as I am finding, no two writers are alike. They don't work alike, they don't think alike, and they sure as heck don't write the same way. So one writer might swear by outlines, while another is stifled by them. One might write a nearly-perfect first draft, while another depends more on mad editing skills to turn a sloppy first draft into something magical.

So what I -- and every writer on the face of the Earth -- have to do is to winnow through the piles and heaps of writing advice out there on the Internet in an attempt to find the path that works for me. When I've done that, I can share what I've learned with others, all the while fully aware that my Holy Grail is another person's Sinkhole of Despair.

One of the things I'm learning about myself is that it is possible for me to read and try to follow too much advice all at once. The symptoms of that are pretty clear: Inner Editor picks the lock of that cage I keep her in and hovers over my keyboard, questioning every word choice, every punctuation mark. "Because if you write the first draft carefully enough," she murmurs seductively, "you don't have to go back and do as much editing. Look at all the time that will save!"

And yes, it's true. If it really did work that way, I could save a lot of time. But what is more likely to happen -- and is, in fact, what has happened with my current WIP -- is that the story stalls out, too self-conscious to continue. Inner Editor is trying to make me follow all of the advice at once. And it's just not working.

So maybe it's time to step back from all of those enticing Twitter feeds, the ones with siren-like links to article after article about how to better one's writing skills. Maybe it's time to lock the Inner Editor back into her clean, comfortable cage for the time being and get some writing done.

Maybe I need to focus on what works for me, for now.

Anyone else suffering from advice overload? Anyone else have an Inner Editor who's been getting a little too sassy lately?

Those Little Habits; or, "You Might Be A Writer If..."

Came across a blog posting this week that made me laugh, called, "You Might Be A Writer If..." Y'all should go read it. Go ahead. I'll wait. Just don't forget to come back, okay?

*

*

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You back?

'K.

So after I read that and laughed, I got to thinking. The reason it's funny, of course, is because it's about things we all do. Maybe we don't do all of them (I don't have kids, but if I did, I probably wouldn't name them after famous authors), but we do at least some of them.

But they -- or at least most of them -- are also habits we've gotten into because we write.

I'm still editing my Regency romance (almost halfway done, yay!), and as I've been going through, I've found myself thinking, "Why did I ever write this scene that way? Didn't I realize that it's wordy, that it's overwritten? Do I really need to tell the reader the entire guest list of Annalise's breakfast party?" (Yes, I edited that out today. For a guest list, it was actually reasonably well-written, but it still needed to go. But I digress...)

And then I realized that the reason some of what I'm editing is so cringe-worthy is because I've developed new writing habits since I wrote this story. I've gotten much better at recognizing passive voice, for example, and knowing when I've included too much exposition.

Which doesn't mean I don't still write that way sometimes. But at least when I get around to editing, I'm better at recognizing what to take out.

I've also gotten used to writing (and now, editing) in short bursts. If I have a spare half-hour or so, that can be 500-800 words written, or half a chapter edited. I don't need to wait until I have half a day free to get anything done.

Of course, some habits are less beneficial, like my need to hop into a hot shower when I have a plot point to resolve. Makes it mighty inconvenient sometimes!

What writing habits do other people have? Have they changed over time, and if so, how?




(p.s. Bonus points to folks who figured out that posting to this blog is another habit I've been trying to develop!)

Into The Home Stretch; or, The End Is Near

After writing a few difficult scenes for my current work in progress, The Daughters of August Winterbourne, I can definitely tell that I'm on the home stretch. I've begun the big, climactic scene, and it's rolling along nicely. I can see the end of the story, and it's suddenly not very far away at all.

I love this part of a story. It feels like everything I've spent the last several months building up has finally fallen into place, and all that's left for me to do is to stand back and let gravity take its course. To me, it feels almost like flying, or at least gliding. The words are pouring out of my fingertips almost faster than I can catch them. Certainly my poor little keyboard has taken a pounding these last few days!

And yet ... I also hate this part of a story. By the time I've reached this point, I feel like I'm finally really getting to know my characters, that they've become my friends. I've spent time with these people almost every single day (with one exception) since the beginning of last November. And in a few more days -- maybe as little as a week -- it will all be over. I will have told their story, and I will never be able to tell it for the first time again.

Oh, I know, there will be months and months of editing. And there are always the sequels I have planned. But good, bad, or indifferent, this story will be finished. If and when I write about Celia and Nicholas and Papa and Celia's sisters again, they'll be different characters than they were at the beginning of this story. Their adventures will have changed them, shaped them. They'll be the same people, but different, just as their new story will be different.

Ah, well. That's what it's all about, right? And in the meantime...I've a book to finish.

How do other people approach the end of a story? Do you wax nostalgic, or are you just so glad to have it over with that you don't even care any more?



(p.s. Although I'm a little late getting the word out, today is National Grammar Day! And a bonus link: Grammar Girl often has answers to life's nagging grammar questions. Check out her website!)

You put one foot in front of the other

I'm still fighting the blahs that struck me last week and my writing has suffered for it. It's never too late to start over, however, so that is what I am doing. I've reworked my opening at least three times and I've finally hit it to where I can continue. 50k words at this point is a mighty big stretch. Okay, it's not gonna happen, but the whole point is to write so I that's what I'm doing.

About that opening...I know, I KNOW, I'm not supposed to rewrite during Nanowrimo. However, I don't know how it is for you, but I cannot get into my story's groove if I am not comfortable with the opening (not that that means I finish what I write if I do happen to like my opening- just ask Sam, who's read many of my first paragraphs but has yet to read the last one). If the first couple of paragraphs don't jive with the tone I'm trying to set, I'm dead in the water. There is no skipping ahead, either: it has to work from the beginning or it doesn't work at all.

I guess that's one of my writerly quirks. Maybe it's something I'll grow out of, or maybe not. How do you approach your beginnings? Can you bust through a block right from the get-go and carry on without stress? Or do you sit and ponder and rewrite until the story starts just the way you want it to? I'm not saying that I never go back and edit the openings I do like from the start, because I surely do.

The interesting thing (to me, at least) is that my Nanowrimo story starts out in the same place in each revision; it's just the wording that keeps changing. I went from third-person to first-person back to third-person. And as I sit here and type this out, it's dawning on me that a lot of my issues with my story stem from a very basic problem: I do not know enough about my main character (and this ties in well with Colleen's recent entry). Once I pin her down, I think the rest will come much easier.

At the rate I'm going, I don't expect to "win" Nanowrimo this year. As cornball as this sounds, though, I am winning in other ways. I'm pushing myself past my usual comfort zones and I'm writing. It's crap and it's slow going, but I'm writing. And that's what it's all about.

Critique questions

Earlier this week, I was reading a blog post by author discussing the critique group she had recently left. The progression of time had caused them to 'disband', which I've heard isn't uncommon. What she shared in her post were the 7 questions they used in looking each other's work. I thought these were valuable questions to use as a starting point when looking at your own work and at anyone else's.

1. Who is the protagonist?
2. What is the protagonist's goal?
3. Who is the antagonist?
4. What is the antagonist's goal?
5. What do you expect will happen next in the story, given what you read in this scene?
6. What in this scene must be kept at all costs?
7. What in this scene needs work?

I particularly like question number 6 - what must be kept at all costs? It reminds me of advice I've heard Cherry Adair give - Enter your scene at the last possible moment and leave as quickly as you can. I know I'll be using these questions when I begin editing my next project.

I wish I could credit whose blog I read this on but I don't remember. But thank you to whomever that author is and if I find the post again, I'll give credit appropriately.

How My Netbook Changed The Way I Write

When I first started writing, back in high school (during the pen-and-spiral-notebook days), I tried to keep the fact that I wrote a secret, at least from my family. I was pretty sure my older brother, at least, would have made fun of me. My younger brother knew I wrote, but he was always cooler about such things. On the other hand, I was pretty sure my mom wouldn't have understood at all. She'd want to know why I was wasting time on things like writing when I could be doing things like cleaning or yardwork.

So most of my writing in those days (and on into college, since I lived in my parents' house until I got married) took place either during free periods at school (and sometimes, I blush to admit, during the less-interesting of my classes), or late in the evening, between the hours of 10:00 pm and 2:00 am. I'd usually curl up in my bed or my beanbag chair with my notebook and scribble away until I just couldn't stay awake any longer.

Once I got married, I struggled through years of writing on various desktop, portable, and laptop computers. I found it easier to write on a computer -- once I stopped feeling silly about it -- but it was never as handy as that spiral notebook that I could carry with me and curl up with anywhere. The laptops made it better, but it still wasn't quite the same.

Then this past January, my Beloved Husband and I decided to treat ourselves to netbooks for Christmas. Mine didn't actually arrive until February (there was a problem with the first one they sent), but when it did, it was love at first touch. I'd worried that I'd find the 3/4 size keyboard difficult to use, but that turned out to be a non-issue -- after about two hours, my fingers adjusted, and I can now type just as fast on the netbook as on any other keyboard.

In many ways, I feel like I've returned to my spiral notebook days. The netbook is small and light enough that I can carry it with me almost anywhere -- and I do! Which means that any time there are a few free minutes, I can write: first thing in the morning; at lunchtime, at work; while waiting for the take-out pizza; curled up in bed at night.

I've listened to a lot of writers speak about how to find the time to write, and one thing I hear over and over again is that if you wait for a free three-hour block of time before you even consider writing anything, you'll almost never get any writing done. But if you take advantage of the little bits of time you can create here and there, the next thing you know, you've got a novel on your hands. I'll talk more about how I manage those little snippets of time later, but I think my netbook is helping me to find them, at least!

Oh, and the one big disadvantage of a netbook? When I whip it out in a crowded room, I inevitably have to spend a few minutes responding to all the cries of, "Oh, what a cute little computer!" The fact that it's pink probably contributes to the problem...it really is cute!