writing

Well, I got the manuscript back from editing and found 62 pages of text covered with Track Changes bubbles and coloured text. How I could have written something so bad that it had all these errors? First step on the road to gloom. And if you’ve worked with Track Changes you know what a lot of work it can mean to go through the changes one at a time. I had so many to fix; where was I going to find a decent chunk of time to do only that? Second step on the road to gloom. And, of course, I was overwhelmed that week with other work. Third step–ugh.

So I had a little pity party, and when I finally got up the nerve to take a closer look, I realized that a lot of the changes were formatting, which was a huge relief. I didn’t think I’d left that many spelling and grammar mistakes behind! It didn’t change the fact that there was a lot of work to do, but it didn’t make me feel quite so inadequate—just enough to make me dread the work ahead.

I regretfully passed on a Thursday night get-together with some fellow writers so that I could get my marking done and freed Friday morning for the edits. They were extremely fiddly but informative, and I finally slogged my way through all of them. Editing on the screen is not my favourite thing to do, so after the third time through the document, I was finished in more ways than one.

Now I had to send it back to editing. If all was fine, it was going to move on through cover design and text formatting and all the stuff that was going to make it look like a book. I hesitated. I hesitated for three days! Had I really written anything that was any good or was it really just a lot of crap? Then self-doubt and its friends, fear and insecurity, moved in while I wondered what the hell I was doing thinking I could write a book and what made me think I should actually publish the thing.

That was a lousy three days. But finally, I thought about the time and money had had committed to the project—too much to stop now. I thought about the good feedback I’d had when I’d posted chapters from the book on my blog (7 Editing Questions, for example), and realized, at least, some of the book was worthwhile. I had dreamed of writing this book since I wrote the original articles it was based on over 5 years ago. The only way to make the dream come true was to send the manuscript back to iUniverse and just get the thing done.

 So that’s what I did. The next time I see my manuscript it’s going to look like a book. My book. My dream book. Can’t wait!

Writers rarely like to revise their work but it is a reality of the writing process and is actually more important than the writing itself. Without it, writers can’t realize the true potential of the story or novel they originally envisioned. Without it, a story will never be published. Here are seven self-editing questions to ask as you begin revisions on your story or novel.

1. Where does the story really begin?

Reread the first two to three pages of your story very carefully. When does the action really start? A major fault with many first drafts (mine, included!) is too much background material at the beginning before the conflict is introduced and the characters finally take over the story. In my case, I can almost bet that my story doesn’t really begin until about half-way down page three, so out go the first two pages. If the material I have cut is essential for the reader to know, I find ways later, through dialogue or thoughts of my characters, to get the information to the reader. My later insertions are never as long as those original two and a half pages and the pace of the story gains needed speed.

2. Is this adverb necessary?

Chances are, if you are using a lot of adverbs, you are telling and not showing. Think about the character that has just won the lottery. Rather than have her yell hurray ‘joyfully’, why not have her jump up and down screaming so loudly that her cat runs under the bed in terror and it takes her twenty minutes to get it out. Maybe she runs to her closet and throws all of her old clothes in the garbage while blasting “If I Had a Million Dollars” on her CD player. Both of those pictures show how the character reacts instead of telling and are certainly livelier than the word ‘joyfully’.

3. Is this adjective doing its job?

Look for those empty adjectives and replace them. ‘Amazing’, ‘interesting’, ‘exciting’, ‘awful’, ‘ugly’, ‘beautiful’, ‘nice’, ‘scary’, and other adjectives like them need to be replaced with sensory details that bring to life what you are describing. Find places to get the readers’ senses working; it means
you are making the story real for them.

4. Whose problem is it?

Your main character has the problem; the main character needs to solve it. Make sure that your protagonist remains the chief actor in the story and doesn’t become solely the reactor to another character’s influence. Sometimes in longer pieces, characters other than your lead can start to
steal your attention and your imagination; this can be especially true of villains and ‘comic sidekicks’. Be careful that these characters don’t become so charming that they threaten to steal the book from your hero or heroine.

5. Are the grammar and spelling perfect?

Yes, I mean perfect. The most that an editor needs to read of a short story in order to make a decision is approximately three paragraphs; a novel might get three pages. If that’s the only chance you have, don’t blow it by showing your lack of ability in spelling and grammar. Of course, publishers have people whose job it is to make sure that the copy they publish is correct in every way, but there’s no way they’re going to waste that person’s time on writers who haven’t bothered to do their best the first time.

6. Have I read my story out loud?

One of your best proofreading tools is the sound of your own voice. Reading your story aloud is a great way to find awkward or incomplete sentences, clumsy phrasing, and inconsistencies in verb tenses and pronoun agreement. If you hesitate when you are reading or if you have to reread a sentence or phrase, then that’s a section of your story that needs a rewrite.

7. Have I applied the Stephen King rule?

Stephen King concludes his autobiography, On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft, with an editing exercise. He shows you the first draft of a story he has written and then shows it again full of his cross-outs, inserts and editing marks. He explains his edits and why he makes the choices he does. King’s revision rule is: “2nd Draft = 1st Draft – 10%.” We have a tendency, as writers, to believe that every word we write is precious and are very reluctant to cut our material–after all, we remember how hard it as to get it down on paper the first time. However, editing is about making our prose lean, and exciting, and compelling the reader to turn the page. See what you can do with ten per cent fewer words.

Consider revision a reward. Remember that if you are revising, you have finished a project–and how neat is that? Try these seven questions to kick-start your editing and begin your pursuit of a great final product.

The first part of my self-publishing process is done. I have finished the manuscript Writing Fiction: A Hands-On Guide for Teens, done the bit of formatting I needed to do, and sent it off to iUniverse. But that actually wasn’t the first part. Why did I pick self-publishing in the first place?

For this book, I didn’t have to look far for a reason. The reason is the realistic unlikelihood of it ever being published by a non-POD publisher. Aside from whether the book is any good or not, publishers like their non-fiction writers to have a platform, especially for something as risky as a book on a topic that hasn’t been written about before. If a famous kidlit writer sat down and wrote a book for teen writers about writing fiction, its chances of publication would be pretty high. I’m not being whiny—just realistic. I have the POD option if I believe in my product, and I do, so that’s the direction I chose.

Another reason is marketing. I have some ideas about how and to whom I want the book marketed and I’m ready to invest the time and energy in the process. My book isn’t designed for teachers to use in the classroom, though I suppose they could. It’s written writer-to-writer, not teacher to teacher, and I haven’t prepared any black line masters or teachers’ guides for the material.

I believe the book belongs on kids’ desks at home, so they can dip in and out of it as they are working on their stories and novels, and on library shelves in cities and schools. It isn’t anymore than I describe it. It’s an “introduction to the art of fiction writing.” All the answers are not there, but I have a website ready to go where I hope to interact with writers and where I will work with them to help them find solutions to their problems, to congratulate them on their successes and to honour the work they are doing as writers.

I’ve worked with young writers for many years and I admire their creativity, drive and fearlessness. They’re great “writing” company and relentlessly inspiring. I wrote the book for them and I hope to find my own way of reaching them. For me, self-publishing is the right route.

Last week I launched myself happily into fiction, except it was more like a pathetic little hop than a rocket into space. Full of excitement and ambition and hope at the beginning, I accomplished nothing for 5 days. What happened?

To begin, fear happened. What if I just couldn’t write fiction anymore? Have I been away from it too long? I wrote most of one book during the summer when I wasn’t working. And it was glorious. Suddenly now I have no energy. Where did it go? And it was my excuse for doing nothing. Was fear sucking the energy out of me? Years ago, I wrote 3 novels at 5 am in the morning before I headed into a full teaching day. Why can’t I do that now?

Then doubt happened. What if I went back to those stories that have been patiently waiting for so long and they were really bad? It was too scary to open the file, so I didn’t for several days.

Then finally–5 days later–determination happened and I asked myself the tough question. Was I a writer or wasn’t I?

So I finally dove in. Not in any major way but in an Anne Lamott, 1-inch picture frame kind of way. I gave myself permission to not think about how to finish the book. Instead, I gave myself permission to write 500 words, enough to get my character—and me—moving. And the next day I wrote another 500 words and today I will write another.

Small, manageable chunks are what I can manage. I can’t think about finishing the book, but I can think about 500 words; whether they’re the next ones or ones I will use later on, at least I will have written something. And right now that’s what I need to do.

Write something.

Yup, that’s where I am. I am facing the final chapter in my book, deciding how to bring it to a close and wondering how it’s going to feel to finally send it out to iUniverse for them to work their magic—or at least turn it into a professional-looking, attractive, and sellable product.

But first I have to write that last chapter, do one last reorganizing of the content and then adios. I’ve typed “the end” before but only on works of fiction. Those went sailing into slush piles everywhere and returned with some acceptances for the short stories and some encouraging “no’s” for the longer works. But this is not the same. When this book is finished it’s going to be published, albeit by me, and is going out there to sink or swim depending on my marketing efforts and a dollop of dumb luck. This is a very different consequence for all my work—a guaranteed actual book in my hands.

This consequence changes the game a little. It’s only my editorial eye and my gut that make the final decision, that says “You’re done; there’s nothing left to do. Send it out.” In the non-self-publishing world there are editors and agents to guide the work to its publishable state. I’m making all those decisions myself.

And the first decision of many comes now. I decide I’m finished. I write my last chapter and say good-bye.

Am I ready? Yes.

Sometimes when I look back at a work-in-progress, I get the glooms. I visit the dark side of an unfinished work, the side that echoes with regrets at not being further along, memories of promises to write every day that were broken almost immediately, and wishes that getting to the end wasn’t such a long process. Other times, I just take a deep breath and grimly dig in to keep the project alive.

Today was different.

I don’t know whether it was because the sun was shining or because I’d had a good hair day or because my planets suddenly aligned, but when I looked at my WIP, I got a different result. And it’s one I’m going to hold onto for as long as I can.

I realized how far I had come. I realized that I had accomplished a lot, and rather than regret that it wasn’t more, I was delighted about where I was in the process. And I can’t wait to write more.

What a glorious change from the glooms and also a big lesson in perspective. Now when I’m tempted to visit the dark side, I’m going to take a moment to realize that I am making progress, that I’m further ahead than I was before and that even slow progress is progress.

 I’m going to work hard to remember this day the next time and the next time and the next time I open my WIP file. For today, I’ll just enjoy the “light” side.