Losing Faith

Yesterday, I lost faith.  Over three years into the writing of my novel, and it all felt useless.  Why was I doing it?  Would it ever amount to anything?  Why waste my time?

Early on, I lost faith every couple of minutes.  Who was I to write a novel?  What did I know about that?  Did I have anything worthwhile to say?  Would anything I wrote be worth some poor reader spending his precious time on it?  (I must confess, as I write these questions, I still feel that way sometimes.  Then I try to put all the negativity away and begin again.)

I think I was having a bad day yesterday.  I cut my morning walk short, because I didn't feel up to doing it.  All I wanted was get home, sit down, and rest a bit.  And, even once I got home, I felt out of sorts.  I wasn't myself, I knew that for sure, because, among other things, I didn't want to sit down to write.  I didn't see the point.  Taking the day off sounded more pleasant than trying to make sense out of all the words I'd written.  Hell, maybe I'd take the whole week off. 

Then I went to the mailbox, where I found the February 2015 edition of Writer's Digest.  I opened to the table of contents and read this, about an interview with Garth Stein (whom I'd never heard of):  "Six years later, with his long-awaited follow-up, A Sudden Light, Garth Stein reminds us what's at the root of any book worth reading: A lot of hard work, and a heck of a good story [p. 3]."

Already, I felt insecure about my novel.  Then I read Garth Stein talk about needing to tell "a heck of a good story," and I began to wonder if that's what I was doing.  After I'd spent so much time and effort on my novel, was I telling a heck of a good story?  Would it be a story anyone else would be interested in, or would I end up writing it just for me?  Not a good feeling.  Not at all.

Today, I felt much better, as I continued work on edits of chapters 5, 9, and 14.  The writing went well.  I felt like I was doing something worthwhile, like my time and effort were well spent.  I considered myself back on track, and that's always a good place to be.

As writers, we lose faith on our projects constantly.  When you shoot that arrow in the dark, all you have is faith that it'll hit the bull's eye.  But you never know for sure.  Sometimes, all you have is faith–not just in writing, but in life. 

Faith is a powerful thing.  And, if you give yourself over to it completely, I have to believe anything is possible.  I'm going on that assumption as I continue to write my novel.  As I know I have at least a year or two more of work on it before it's finished.  

Take it one writing session at a time.  Never second guess yourself.  Believe.  And when you lose faith, know it won't last forever.

Who better to invest faith in than you?      

First Drafts

This past week, I wrote the first drafts of three new chapters, each about 2,000 words long.  I thought I was done with first drafts for my novel as long as a year or more ago.  Then I discovered these chapters were necessary; I didn't know how to get along without having them.  And why should I, if they were instrumental in telling my protagonist's story?

The first new draft took two days to write; the other two took only a day each (depending on how long my writing sessions were).  And, when I was done, I was happy with them, as first drafts go. I'd certainly included everything I intended to.

And, as it turned out, so much more.

See, that's the thing with first drafts.  Well, before I go there, I want to say how much fun it was, after all this time of not writing a first draft, just to let go and see where the writing took me.  I've been editing for so long, I forgot how exhilarating setting off on a new journey could be, plowing the mounds of fresh snow that fell overnight, seeing all those words accumulate on the screen. 

But what I really learned–or was reminded of–was how first drafts should be written.  Sure, have in mind what you hope to accomplish; have at least a sense of what should happen.  But you don't need to know everything before you sit down to write, which I thought before, and which, for me, really hindered the creative aspect of writing first drafts.  In fact, you may need to know less than you imagine.  Just the kernel of an idea is enough, before you sit down to find out what it's all about. 

And, mostly importantly, get out of your own way.  Set yourself free to write that first draft.  Don't have any expectations.  Like a road trip you've never taken before, have your map ready (that is, as I said above, know what direction you're going in, what you need to accomplish), but don't be scared to turn right or left, to go up or down, as the case may be, while you're on your way.   You'll still, somehow, end up where you need to go.

First drafts are all about exploring.  They're all about being open to whatever comes to you and not judging it, but getting it down when it's given to you, while it's there for you to access.  Go with it.  Feel the wind in your hair, the sun on your face, as you rush to get the words down, as you wait to find out what's coming up around the next corner.

What a pleasant surprise my three new first drafts were.  After I was done, I knew the different minor character introduced in each so much better.  I understood them more as human beings, what motivated them, why they did what they did.  And I had a better understanding of how what they did affected my protagonist (thereby confirming I needed them in my novel, after all).

That's what first drafts can do for you, if you set yourself free to write them.

Go With It

Today, I finished writing a new chapter for my novel, which I thought I'd finished writing new chapters for well over a year ago.  I started work on the new chapter yesterday and would have liked to finish it then, because the writing was going well and I was in the right frame of mind, except time ran out.  After struggling a little today to get back on track (which often happens under those circumstances), I finally found my momentum and got the job done.  Whew!  And coming to the conclusion of this first draft felt good too, as it almost always does.  What a sense of accomplishment.

This chapter was loosely based on something that happened to me many years ago.  Going into the writing, I knew what highlights I needed to include, but I didn't know all the details on how to get there, or how to piece them all together.  I admit, when I sat down to write, I didn't do my usual preparation–that is, I didn't plan out everything, knowing exactly how I'd get from Point A to Point B.  I thought I knew enough about what was going on to get where I needed to go.

Well, at a point, I discovered I was lost.  I came to the end of something I knew worked, or I wanted to include, and then…nothing.  Nothing at all.  I sat for a while and looked over what I had.  I read the lead-in numerous times, and still nothing came to me.  I began to regret not planning better.  Was this confirmation that I should have known more about what I needed to do before I sat down to write?  Maybe.  But I wasn't ready to give up, not yet.  All good things come to those who are patient–and don't panic. 

Then something came to me, the next line, and I got it down.  Okay, so I didn't like it completely, but it was something, right?  Then a better version of it came to me, and I got that down.  From there, another line suggested itself.  And then another one.  This kept up for a while, until I got stuck again.  Until I had to repeat the process all over, of sitting back, thinking, rereading what I already had.

Then another line came to me, and another one, and, finally, I realized what direction I was going in.  Of course, why hadn't I seen it before.  It felt so right.  It tied in nicely with something I'd written much earlier in the chapter, making that theme come full circle, and all of it made so much sense.

This happened several times until I saw the end ahead of me.  All the pieces fit together.  When I thought about what I'd captured, not only did they make sense, but they allowed me to understand the characters better, and the situation they were in.  It all felt right.  And I knew I'd be able to use it, or some form of it, anyway.

So the lesson today is this:  You don't necessarily have plan out everything before you sit down to write.  But you do have to leave yourself open to the possibilities of what comes to you while you write.  Don't second guess yourself.  When you come up with an idea, go with it.  It may not be the one you end up using, but it may lead to something else.  Which may lead to something else.  And, before you know it, you've got a full first draft done, which is a lot more than you had before, and which you can now use, over and over again, to mold into what your chapter is meant to be.  

Multiple Tasks

In the near future, I plan to write a post on just how boring writing a novel can be sometimes.  And, believe me, can it get boring, particularly if you keep hammering away at the same task over and over again.   

So let's put the cart before the horse here.  This post is about having multiple tasks to do on the same project, at the same time.  The whole idea is, when you become bored doing one task, you switch and work on another one instead. 

Here's what I have going on my novel right now:

1.  Transposing:  True, I have a complete first draft of my novel written already.  But, when I begin editing a new section, I never use the draft of a scene or chapter that's already in place.  Rather, I transpose that draft from beginning to end.  That way, I rediscover it in the process (because I wrote the first draft a year or so ago), and I make changes along the way that suggest themselves to me as I transpose.  (Look for a specific post on this process in the upcoming months.)

Currently, I'm transposing Chapter Seventeen, while I work on edits for Chapter Sixteen, Scene Three.

2.  Writing New Chapters:  I realize I said above I've written a complete first draft of my novel.  But, recently, I discovered several key chapters missing in my story, which I never planned for in the first place, and which are key to what happens to my protagonist.  So I'm in the process now of writing these first drafts and finding where they fit in what I've already have written.

And, even if you're working on writing the first draft of your novel now, and you find yourself getting bored of being at the same place and getting nowhere, switch it up.  Work on that first draft at another place in your storyline.  Nothing to say you must write your first draft chronologically.  Instead, if you feel uninspired by that piece, work on that one instead.  Let your mind tell you where you want to be, and go there.

Here's an example:  So you're not working on Chapter Three, Scene Two, because you finished Chapter Three, Scene One yesterday.  Maybe you're bored of Chapter Three altogether.  No point working on it now.  Don't waste your time.  Wait until you're not bored.  Work on Chapter Seven, Scene One instead.  Or Chapter Ten, Scene Three (this presumes you have an outline of your novel, and you know what happens in each scene and chapter).  Then, when you have all the pieces of your first draft written, you can knit them together into one seamless draft. 

3.  Ongoing Work on Chapter One (or any scene/chapter, for that matter):  Let me tell you, I've put more work into the three scenes of Chapter One than perhaps into the rest of my entire novel combined.  And I'm still not happy with it.  Considering how critical Chapter One is, in terms of the door you make available for your reader to enter your story, Chapter One has to be right.  No options there.  So, after I've worked on Chapter One for a bit, but I know it still isn't where I want it to be, I stop and move on to something else (which is why I have multiple tasks going at any one time).  Then, when I've let an appreciable amount of time pass, I pick up Chapter One again, with a fresh set of eyes and a clear head, and I see what I can do to it this time to improve on what I already have.  I suspect this process will be ongoing until my novel is finally done.  But I'll end up with one hell of a great Chapter One (I hope).

4.  Editing:  While, in the editing process, I'm working on my novel chronologically, so I get a sense of the continuity as I go along, there's nothing to say I can't begin to edit another scene in my novel, far away from where I am now.  If I'm not feeling Chapter Sixteen, Scene Two today, why not begin edits on Chapter Seventeen, Scene One, especially if I can't wait to get to that scene, or I have some really cool ideas I want to incorporate into it.  Go where your heart tells you to go.  You're still working on your novel, your time will be better spent, and you'll be far more productive. 

The good news about having multiple tasks going on a writing project at the same time is, even if you switch from one task to another, you're still moving your project ahead in some way.  Why struggle working on the same task, and probably get nowhere because you're not into it, when you could work on something else, feel inspired again, and accomplish something that you need to do sooner or later anyway, to bring your project to a conclusion?

Have multiple tasks going to complete a project all the time.  You'll like it. 

What About a Sore Back?

So here's something that came to me today (which I wrote down; any time an idea related to your writing comes to you, write it down, because you might be able to use it, if not now, maybe later).

How about a sore back?  Who among us hasn't had a sore back from time to time?  Who among us hasn't felt the stabbing pain, experienced the debilitation, hasn't had his life altered, at least a little, because his back is so sore, he can scarcely move?

Well, use that.  Give your character a sore back.  Why not?  If a sore back is an experience common to all human beings, then why shouldn't your protagonist have a sore back too?  Why should your protagonist always be in perfect health?  That's not realistic.  Help your reader relate to your protagonist by giving him, your protagonist (and your reader, by association), a sore back.

Giving your protagonist a sore back shouldn't be done just for the sake of doing it.  It should be done for a reason.  After all, nothing in a novel should be there by accident; everything in a novel should be there because you intended it to be there, either consciously or unconsciously, because it's meant to be there for some reason that serves your story. 

At the very least, giving your protagonist a sore back could be yet another form of conflict.  Let's say everything is already going wrong for your main character.  But, to show that things couldn't get much worse, give him a sore back, a really, really sore back, one that almost prevents him from standing, let alone moving from one place to another.

Or perhaps a sore back is symbolic of something else, or foreshadowing something bad is about to happen to your protagonist.  Really, you can use a sore back for just about any purpose.  Be creative.  Giving your protagonist a sore back in that specific scene may be just what your narrative calls for.  Think it through.  Figure it out.  Does it work?  Could it work?  Make it work.

Finally, it doesn't have to be a sore back.  Aren't there all kinds of things that befall us as human beings, that we can give our characters, to make them more human, to intensify their conflict?  How about a sore throat?  A bad cold?  The flu?  What about a toothache, a sprained ankle, or a broken arm?

I just went through the experience of having a broken arm.  And what an experience it was.  Now that I have it under my belt, I could use it, if I wanted to, in my novel–afflict my protagonist with a broken arm.  I can certainly write around that, because I know about the experience intimately.  I can make it about as realistic as you could imagine.

Use what you have.  Use what's yours to use.  Use it to make your characters more like the human beings who walk in and out of our lives every day.

Heap more conflict on your characters.  Make your readers care more about your characters, because real things happen to them, real inconveniences, not only the ones you fabricate to make their lives miserable.

Have you considered a sore back?   

Beta Reader

An alpha reader or beta reader…, also pre-reader or critiquer, is a non-professional reader who reads a written work, generally fiction, with the intent of looking over the material to find and improve elements such as grammar and spelling, as well as suggestions to improve the story, its characters, or its setting. Beta reading is typically done before the story is released for public consumption. Beta readers are not explicitly proofreaders or editors, but can serve in that context.

Elements highlighted by beta readers encompass things such as plot holes, problems with continuity, characterization or believability; in fiction and non-fiction, the beta might also assist the author with fact-checking.

(From Wikipedia)

I first heard the term "beta reader" at a once-a-month meeting of the Golden Ears Writing Group, when a guest speaker–a woman I confess not liking much, because of her pretentious fist-bumping and overall arrogance–suggested to all writers in attendance that, if they didn't have a beta reader, they better get one, or two, or six, before submitting their work for publication anywhere.

Fortunately, I was way ahead of her.  For the previous year or so, Jeanette and I have been meeting via Skype, on an irregular but consistent basis, so she can provide feedback on anything and everything she sees in my scenes and chapters that's wrong or doesn't work for her.  I graduated from high school in June 1977 with Jeanette; in fact, she was my escort to our graduation ceremony.  Over the years, we've stayed in touch, and I knew, because of how much I trust her and her honesty, that she'd make a great beta reader.  That she has.  I look forward to meeting with her for an hour or so once in a while, to go over my work, and I value her opinion.

But–on this point, the speaker at the writing group and I agree–one beta reader isn't enough.

So, recently, I asked someone else if he'd ever considered being a beta reader.  The curious thing is, I've never met him in person.  But, in this age of connecting with people online, and learning more about them there, through their blogs, for example, than you might if you'd been close friends for years, I thought he'd make a perfect beta reader.  Actually, I thought he'd be a perfect beta reader for a number of reasons:  He's a fellow writer, I've read everything he's written on his blog for years, I love his style of writing, I respect and trust him, and I know he'll be honest in what he says and improve my writing markedly.  And you know what?  He said he was flattered to be asked, and he'd like to give it a try.

Yesterday morning, I sat down to write him a very long email, to bring him up to speed on my novel: at a base level, what it's about, who the characters are, what I'm looking for from him, that sort of thing.  At the end of my email, I asked if he wanted to receive a piece of my writing, to make sure he didn't find so much wrong with it that it would require a major commitment in time and effort on his part to take on the role of a beta reader.  He's been following my blog for years too, so he already knows my style of writing, and he seems to have no problem with it.  Still, taking on the load of a beta reader might be a lot, and I want to give him the option of bowing out if necessary, for whatever reason.  I hope that won't be the case.  I can't tell you how excited I am to work with him.

To that end, I took out Chapter One, yet again, and put more polish on it, so I can send it to my new beta reader.  While Jeanette and I are working on Chapter Sixteen, my new beta reader needs to begin at the beginning, so he gets a sense of the story at the outset, and so he understands the continuity of it.

Plus, from my perspective, Chapter One is still the most problematic.  I can't tell you how many times I've gone over it, how much time I've devoted to it over the months, restructuring and rewording everything.  Chapter One, after all, is the door into my novel, as it is to any novel.  Of all the writing in the book, it has to be the best.  Those first few pages are critical in admitting the reader into the story, and making him want to stay there and root around for a while. 

I can't wait for my new beta reader to see Chapter One, and to receive his feedback, whatever form it takes.  I know he'll help my writing be the best it can be, and that's an exciting prospect.

Happy writing.

Go Deeper

So, today, after cleaning up and reorganizing myself like I wrote about in yesterday's post, I completed three rounds of edits on Chapter 5 and two rounds of edits on Chapter 9.  Remember, these two chapters used to be the first two scenes of what was going to be Chapter 12–until I decided they needed to be split up and placed elsewhere in my narrative.

Editing is a funny thing.  You get to the point in a piece when you think the editing is mostly done.  You read what you have, sit back, satisfied that your writing sounds pretty good, and feel the impulse to move on to something else. 

But don't.  Because, over and over again, I've learned that, when you think the editing of a piece is done, it really isn't.  In fact, that's the time to go deeper, to really see what's on the page, to visualize what the characters are doing, and to fine tune exactly what you want to say. 

Here are some of the questions I asked myself during my editing session today:

1.  Am I making the reader feel what's going on?
2.  Am I attending to all the details that make writing, and the story, come alive?
3.  Have I taken enough risks to stretch myself as a writer, and to take my writing to places it wouldn't otherwise go? 

I suspect these are the questions we should always ask ourselves as we edit our work.

No better opportunity exists to make your writing sing than through editing.  Use it, fully.

Happy editing.

Writing is Anything But Neat and Clean

I wish writing a novel was always neat and clean, but it isn't.  Here's a recent example.

So there I was, having sequentially reached Chapter Sixteen in my first round of deep edits, when I realized I needed to add four new scenes.  But where did they belong?

I took the lazy route at first and decided to put them all together in a single chapter, which I'd place either just before or just after Chapter Sixteen.  There.  That took care of it.  The road I was on wouldn't get interrupted too badly, and, soon, I'd resume sailing on to the finish line.   

But, the more I thought of it, the more I'd realized this was a mistake.  Or was it?  Would the reader really care where these four new scenes were if they weren't rooted in the time frame of my novel?  Did the time frame even matter?  Wasn't the content more important?  Couldn't I get away with including them, keeping all but the more essential details vague, so I wouldn't have to disrupt my process?

No.  In a word, no, I couldn't.

It took me a while to get there, but I knew when these scenes happened, within the context of my novel, mattered.  That, for the storyline to make sense, these four new scenes needed to figure into the rest…somewhere.

And, worse, they couldn't be grouped together.  They had to be separated–at least three of them did, grouping the last two because they belong together–which meant so many things:

1.  I needed to figure out where, in the context of my story, each of them took place, in terms of the right time frame (that is, seasons of the year), and in relation to the scenes before and after.
2.  As much as I didn't want to do it, it meant everything else I had in place to keep my novel organized had to be changed.  This included:

• my large filing system
• my picture box filing system
• my outline
• my chapter and scene synopsis quick reference sheet
• StoryMill, including the manuscript itself and all scene profiles
• the numbers at the head of each chapter.

Ugh!  Today, I finally faced the reality of what had to be done and did it.  Hours later, everything is in order, and I'm ready to resume deep edits tomorrow, knowing if I have to refer to anything in the process, it will be in the place where it belongs.

Moral of the story?  Sometimes, we have to take one step back, so we can take two steps forward the next time we sit down to work.  Would I have rather kept working on deep edits again today?  You bet, especially after missing out on so much work during the Christmas season.  But I knew I still faced the reorganization of all my materials, and I couldn't get out of doing them sooner or later, unless I decided to get rid of the three new chapters (comprising the four new scenes), which I know I can't do because they are an integral part of telling my story. 

Neat and clean?  Not novel writing, as I've learned.  And I expect I'll face the same thing again very soon.  But the result will all be worth it.

(And, of course, there's a lesson in here for me–as there always is–that patience is a virtue, and there's no substitute for keeping yourself organized, and I would never be able to do the job I want to until the niggling in the back of my mind is dealt with, anyway.  Suck it up and get it done.