Transposing

So one of the techniques I frequently use when I revise my work is what I called "transposing."  Here's how it works.

Rather than take the draft I have now and revise it in the same computer file, I use it only as a guide.  With a hard copy of that draft beside me, I retype it from the beginning.  Only, as I go along, rather than type exactly what I had before–which would be nothing more than creating a second draft of the same thing–I leave myself open to whatever changes come to me, getting them down.       

In effect, I create entirely new drafts, which are almost always better than the old drafts.  The act of retyping the draft from the beginning forces you to see every word.  And forcing yourself to see every word means you'll be less likely to gloss over them, to think they're great or fine or whatever, simply because they're there, already in place.  In other words, transposing forces you to play a more active role in creating your work.       

Try this method if you like.  It might work for you.

Breaks

Chris's vacation time has not been good for my writing this summer.  Or maybe it has been. 

First, he had two and a half weeks off in August.  Then, after just three days back to work, he had another week and a half in September.  (I know.  Don't ask.)

Today, he returned to work, and so did I, on my novel.  And it turns out the break was a good one.

When I sat down to continue revisions on Chapter 22 and Chapter 23, Scenes 1 and 2, I saw these pieces as though I hadn't written them myself.  In other words, I saw them with clarity.  And ideas on changes I should make came easily and quickly, which I'm hopeful improved my writing overall.

So when professional writers recommend taking breaks from your writing–as long as possible–before continuing revisions, believe them.  They know what they're talking about.

All the time I've taken away from my writing this summer, because my partner Chris was on vacation, and I will never choose my writing over him, made a big difference.  I recommend it.

It turns out, break time from your writing is constructive time too. 

Those First Five Pages

If ever there was a time to ensure our first five pages–hell, our first page, or less–is absolutely perfect, it's right now.

I've never been one to sit in a bookstore and read the first five pages of a book before deciding to buy it.  I think that's because I'm too caught up in the excitement of being in a bookstore to settle down and focus on reading a number of pages.  I want to take in everything that's there and be a part of it (just smelling the paper and ink in the air inspires me).  I'll settle down and focus, book in hand, when I return home. 

But, these days, if you're technologically savvy and interested in a book, all you have to do is go to iBookstore on your iPad, and, for free, download what, as far as I can tell, is the first chapter of any book available.  That's right–FOR FREE. 

In the comfort of your home, without risking a cent, you can download the first chapter of nearly any book and sample it.  You might not even need the entire first chapter to make up your mind whether you want to spend money on the book.  You might know within the first paragraphs.  The first sentences?  Yikes!

That's a scary prospect for any writer, hoping not only to be published, but also to be read.  And, not only to be read, but to have their work bought.  With the attention spans of most people today, it's a wonder any writer makes money.  (Is any writer, other than some pretty awful ones, their books seemingly always on the bestseller lists, making money today?) 

And, I hasten to add, fewer and fewer professionals write reviews of books for newspapers and magazines.  Anyone and everyone can do that now, with no particular writing or critical ability, on websites like goodreads.com.  So, if your book fails on any level, get ready for readers to tears it apart.  Because that's what some do, holding little back, it seems.

All the more reason to polish those first few pages until you can see yourself in them.    

Put the Good Stuff Last

What's wrong with this sentence I found in a recent issue of The Vancouver Sun?

When Adam Saint's year-long lease was nearing its end, the West End building's owner Gordon Nelson Inc. jumped the price to $1,850 from $1,550.

I can think several ways I would improve it, but here's the point I want to make in this post–and what I've read in some writing books, which I agree with:  Put the good stuff last.

When we revise our sentences, sometimes, to ensure we make the points we intend to, we need to look at a sentence, decide what's most important, and put it at the very end.

In the case of the above example, it seems to me the most important piece is what Adam Saint's rent increased to.  So rather than put that detail second to the last in the sentence, it should go at the end, like this (along with a few more changes):

When Adam Saint's year-long lease neared its end, the West End building's

owner Gordon Nelson Inc. jumped the price from $1,550 to $1,850.

Now, when you read that, you should be stunned knowing first what the previous rent was, and second what it was increased to.  

As writers, I don't believe we need to do this with every sentence we write.  But I think we have to agree some sentences are more important, more pivotal, than others.  They are the ones we need to pay attention to.  They are the ones we need to put the good stuff last in.

Extra Words

Sometimes, how we say something finds its way into our writing, and that may not always be for the best.      

My beta reader, RG, caught me using the verb "blurt out," when only blurt was needed.  To confirm he was right, I looked up the definition of "blurt."  Here's what I found:  "say (something) suddenly and without careful consideration."  "Out" wasn't needed at all to get across the meaning I intended.   

In a local newspaper, I found the following:  "Work is underway on fixing up the former Sleep Shop building…."  "On" and "up" aren't needed.  Doesn't "Work is underway fixing the former Sleep Shop building" sound better, more concise, clearer?

In a memoir I finished reading yesterday, I found this:  "I shivered and wrapped myself up in the towel and made my way back to my room."  See the opportunities for improvement?  Again, "up" isn't needed, along with the first "and."  With a little more revision, here's what this sentence could look like:  "I shivered, wrapped myself in the towel, and returned to my room." 

I realize I'm being picking, but, according to all the writing manuals, writing shouldn't contain even one more word than is necessary.  Our responsibility, then, is to ensure our writing is lean, while still keeping our meaning clear.  In most cases, eliminating unnecessary words has that exact result.  

Something to think about when revising.

Withholding

One of the greatest lessons I've learned about writing is that I don't have to spell out everything.  Period.

I go back to what Mrs. Cassidy taught me about creative writing in Grade Twelve.  Don't confuse the reader.  Tell him what you want him to know.  Write in plain English.

Okay, well some of that advice has done me well over the years.  But, the more I work on my novel, the more I realize I don't have to do it all the time.  If it serves my story, I can play around with it as much as I want to. 

Here are a few examples:

1).  Start a thought or concept in one scene, and finish it in another.  Just because I brought up a subject in Chapter 21, Scene 3 doesn't mean I have to finish it there.  I can finish it in Chapter 23, Scene 1 or Chapter 27, Scene 4, if that's what works best for the story.  Don't spill it all at once.  Hold off.  Create a little mystery, a little intrigue.  It won't hurt the reader one bit to wait to get a full sense of what you mean.  And by holding off, you may even motivate the reader to read on.   

2).  Sometimes, you don't have to say anything at all.  In other words, you don't have to be explicit.  By leaving it out, not mentioning it, the reader can take from that what you want him to know.  For example, at the time David dies, he doesn't have a partner.  I don't have to state that outright.  I can let his obit speak for me.  If the obit says nothing about David having a partner, then the reader can assume he doesn't.  Let the reader fill in the blanks.  He'll figure it out.   

Lost in C23S2

For the last hour and a half of my writing session today, this time back at home, I completely lost myself in Chapter 23, Scene 2.  I sat down to tinker, got taken up in what I was doing, and, an hour and a half later, realized I needed to stop and make dinner.   

That hour and a half felt like a few minutes. 

Getting lost in your writing is a magical experience.  Something overcomes you, you go into the zone, and lose all track of time.  There's nothing like this feeling–where you lose all awareness of everything around you.  There's only you and your work.  That's it.  (That's all there needs to be.)

Do I get lost in my work every time I sit down to do it?  Oh, I wish.  Not nearly often enough.  But, when it happens, there's no better feeling.  I can't imagine being anywhere else.

It's a special time.