Part II: Revision

The most difficult part of creating a story—especially if one cannot write a decent first draft—is the revision. As I have begun the revision on my pirate novel again, I have found myself contemplating the difficulties rather than actually working on revision much, and thus the reason for the existence of the following:

Firstly, revision is difficult partially because it is hard to feel the same sense of urgency as one does when seeking to reach the ending. One already knows how the story turns out. It is similar to reading a book for the fiftieth time.

Secondly, it is difficult to distance oneself from the story enough to reflect upon it coolly and also feel the warm closeness to it that is necessary to keep involved in it. It is like trying to believe two contradictory things simultaneously.

Thirdly, it is difficult to judge one's own writing. There are parts that seem good, but do they belong? Or should they be cut out? Does it add to the feel of the piece? Or is it one of those humorous situations that appeal only to one's own strange sense of humor?

(This is not even to mention all the problems such as characters that seem a main part of the story and then just disappear. Or instances that are given importance, and then never mentioned again. Or contradictory happenings. And the list goes on....)

Thus the reason I search always for critiquers. In fact I wish very much for my own personal critiquer to sit nearby and give me his thoughts on whatever he reads. Perhaps when I am a published author I shall have the money to employ one, but until then I must satisfy myself with looking for volunteers, I suppose...

Part I: Writing the story

Lately I have been thinking not just about things, but about how I think about things, especially as it is related to writing. I have concluded that there are certain ways I think that pose interesting difficulties in writing novels. I have read several books about writing novels and tried to follow their advice, but have always failed for one primary reason: I think in terms of deadlines.

My life consists almost entirely of deadlines. Right now I am conscious of having to leave in a little over an hour, the preparations necessary for leaving on our camping and sailing trip next Monday, and a scholarship I need to apply for by May 31st. I have great difficulty in thinking more than a few days ahead, which results in my doing everything at the last minute, as it were. I do think about matters farther in the future than say next Monday, but only in a vague sort of way; for all it matters a deadline might be in two months or two years and I will regard it in the same manner, if I regard it at all, except briefly.

Now, as this pertains to writing:

When I am writing a novel I am thinking about the next point. When I have gotten there, I think about the next point. And so on until I reach the end. I cannot plan it out ahead, having this wonderful connected and cohesive weave of storylines. My mind does not seem to work that way.

As unhelpful as this sometimes seems, there is something to be said for it. Because I do not know what is to happen, it allows all sorts of surprises to creep in. I may have a character at the beginning of a novel and think he is just a one-scene character and then find out he is one of the main characters, as in the novel I wrote for National Novel Writing Month last year.

This, however, creates a lot of work for the next step: revision.

Oscillation

I seem to be writing here more and more infrequently, and I wish I could say it was due to a corresponding increase in writing elsewhere, but I am afraid that would not quite be the truth. I considered making an end to it, in order to concentrate my efforts elsewhere, but I find I never like to end things, so for the moment I shall only continue in my sporadic way.

For the moment I guess I shall post a note I wrote elsewhere:

May 1st

Well I was just getting ready to fire myself, but I guess now I won't.

I was even thinking about doing it in a very official manner with a letter. I mean it doesn't do me much good to have a job at which I am not working, and I most certainly have not been writing lately, except for blog posts and letters in Tengwar, though there were a couple of times I attempted it. If I had been working at any other job I would have been fired a long time ago, so I thought it stood to reason that I should be fired as a writer.

I guess this just goes to show that I am not in control here. This very day I randomly decided to go out and check the mail—which I generally reserve for those who actually get things in the mail—and there was an envelope for me from Elder and Leemaur Publishers.

I opened it slowly, trying not to get excited. I already knew what it meant though.

I am going to be published! Or rather a piece of my writing is, which will make me a published writer.

Before I say anything further I should explain: this was in answer to a scholarship I had found. The requirement was for me to submit an essay under 500 words, for which topic I chose the following:

Topic #1: Over the past twenty years campaign spending has been increasing at an astronomical pace. Do you believe that this is good or bad for democracy? and why?

So I wrote the essay, worked on it, had a couple people read it, worked on it some more, (all of this within a few days of the deadline) and submitted it the day before the deadline, which was March 1st.

It is, however, rather ironic that I am getting it published. After all I have spent a good eight or so years of my life seriously working at writing fiction. I have written numerous stories and novels, I have read books about writing fiction, I have critiqued stories and had my own critiqued, and I have submitted numerous works of fiction to various magazines. Yet now I am going to have a non-fiction essay published.

I suppose it doesn't make too much difference what it is. The important part is that I am going to be published! I am rather excited.