Archive for the ‘Revision Hell’ Category

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I’m stuffed

November 24, 2008

suitcase2And it’s not even Turkey Day. So, what gives? I’m trying to get my new website ready–not that I don’t love my bloggy digs over here. It’s just a bit crammed. So, hopefully within a week, you’ll be seeing my new cranberry crib.

In the meantime, I’ve had to get things ready for the move. For one section of my site, I’ve got to give a little summary of my two novels. Little being the optional word. I thought it would be easy. After all, I had snagged a great agent with my query letter, and that only took three short paragraphs for one novel. All I had to do was whittle away at it some more, then write the other summary. I started whittling.

I found that in condensing, I had to rearrange the whole thing, take out some parts, add others. I went back through and reread some of Devouring Winter, then looked over at my overstuffed paragraphs. In fact, I am still looking at them. Bits and pieces of the plot are awkwardly sticking out, and I know, I know I need to condense it more and give just the overall scheme of the story. I know it, but it’s like looking at that overstuffed suitcase that will not get through security and shaking my head in wonder while lamenting, yes, but I most certainly need…

I most certainly do not need everything I have in there. So, off I go to rummage through the plot and edit yet some more…

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Raucous revision and the pantry of fun

November 17, 2008

An very timely post by Moonie today about revision. The revising life is the writer’s life, and sometimes we do a little happy dance after our revising session (which is usually worth seeing). Other times, we stuff the manuscript away, wondering what the hell we just did to our story. Instead of the happy dance, we pour a glass of wine or whiskey, or reach for a piece of chocolate, a bowl of ice cream. Name your poison. I also spend some time meandering through my book pantry (something akin to the Cabinet of Dr. Caligari, only slightly bigger and more colorful).

dscn05841A real person would have cans of food in here and other stuff, but my house already has bookcases in every possible nook, so….

dscn05813Who else has Lacan and Edward Said next to Frank Herbert and Stephen King?

 

Repeat after me: I am a geek, I am a geek, I am a geek.

 Lastly, hats off to my writing colleague Amy, who is taking pen and sword to her manuscript too. It’s always nice to know we’re not alone in revision land. Happy dance in the pantry of fun, anyone?

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My main character isn’t hot enough

November 15, 2008

kendoll211It’s round two for Jonathan and me, and I’m hoping things work out this time.

The editors didn’t fall in love with him on the first round of submissions, and I had to ask myself–was it, perhaps, because I hadn’t fallen in love with him either? And why the hell not, given that I devoted 400 pages to traveling with him, listening to his every thought, trying to understand his mood swings. Actually, he wasn’t all that moody the first time around. While revising, I discovered he has a temper, as quick and volatile as mine.

This to say, Jonathan can be quite an ass now.

He’s more intriguing, too. I wish I was one of those writers who mapped out an entire character and all their motivations and childhood memories, their quirks and fears. But few characters ever really come to me that way. I seem to get to know them the way I get to know my friends. Slowly.  Enthusiastically. Sometimes disappointed. Often surprised. I forgot to let my main character unfold like that, instead folding him–rather paper doll like–into my plot.

After reading Amy’s Ode to the Side Man, I also have to confess that I adore my sidekick characters. Sienna Samsone, for instance, is a sixty-year old widow “as agile as someone half her age, with an even quicker wit.” Think Ripley in Aliens meets Chaucer’s Wife of Bath meets Miss Havisham of Great Expectations, and you’ve got an idea of what she’s capable of.

Then there’s Cadman, the blacksmith, with his deeply scarred forearms….

I’ll stop now, before the inane musings of writer gal at 2:30 in the morning become too ridiculous.

PS–yes, still sick. been in my jammies most of the day with the humidifier on.