The Rewrite Chronicles
This evening I glanced over two chapters that needed work and as I wondered how I was going to clarify things and all that, I realized I just didn’t need them. And like that–ZAP–they were gone! Wahoo! Ten pages of rewrites done. Ha-ha.
(Okay, it wasn’t really zap because I didn’t delete it. Since I’m really rewriting every bit in a new file, it was more like la-di-da move these pages to this pile and ignore them–but zap sounds much more dramatic. Trying to add some zing to the rewrite process–yawn.)
Now I’ve got to decide on a major plot change. Lydia suggested it and I’ve been mulling it over and…I foresee more zapping.
Finding Karma
Most of us probably use the word karma to flippantly and inaccurately, but what a great word it is and what a great day it has been.
I went to the Austin Fine Arts Festival today, and I happened to see an artist I’d met before–Stephanie Strange. Two years ago I’d bought a picture from her. She makes art with typewriter keys–what art is better for a writer>?
I told her that I had a small piece of hers, and we chatted, and as I looked around, I noticed a long, narrow piece, a cloud of the letter O. She said that was a special piece and told me its story. She made that for her very first show, four years ago at a coffee shop, and though she sold almost everything, this piece was the only one left. She carried it to every show, but no one ever wanted it. She figured that one day the right person would come along and it would speak to them.
Well, it spoke to me. Here I am, my first art show is coming up and it too will be in a coffee shop. She makes art from typewriter keys and I’ve been making art with shredded bits of my novel… Did I buy the piece? You bet.
What, I wonder, will be the piece I don’t sell? (Being optimistic that I will sell something.) And who will my work speak to?
A perfect day.
Badgering–The Demon vs. Deity Edition
I don’t know about you, but sometimes I just get sick and tired of what I’m writing. Two things are possible–either the novel really is bad and the writing gods and goddesses are hitting me over the head with quit-now stick (it is a very big stick and takes several deities to lift it). Or it is my own writing demons tricking me into giving up before the wonder of the piece shines through.
So. Writing deities or demons?
Well, my money (or in this case my novel) is that those writing deities are not hitting you with a quit-now stick. They are cheering you on. Really. They want you to soldier on, pick yourself up, and keep going. You don’t hate what you’re doing. You hate that it isn’t done and it isn’t perfect, but you love your imagination and your characters. Okay, maybe the deities aren’t loudly cheering. Maybe you can’t hear them. But they do have a bit of a mean streak (as most deities seem to) and they like to see you struggle.
Struggle on! If you’ve dropped your novel, pick it up and dust it off and throw yourself back in the pages. Don’t let the demons win.
Here I am–grabbing you by the arm and lifting you to your feet, guiding you to your desk (or preferred writing surface), handing you your pen (or keyboard), and stepping back to watch you go.
GO!
Remember, time is going to pass whether you write or not. What do you want to be able to say come Halloween 2008? That you gave in to the demons or that you took them by the horns and flung them out the door?
Fling. Then write.
The Rewrite Chronicles
Rewriting is its own circle of hell. There is every possibility I’m making the novel worse. Right now I’m putting a subplot back in that I had taken out. Perhaps I’ve found the magic ingredient and the results will be amazing and excellent and everyone will ask for the recipe. Or I’ve just pitched a whole watermelon into my vegetable stew and splattered myself and the kitchen. Probably I’ve knocked over the pot as well and scalded the dog.
See-even my analogies (or are they metaphors?) make no sense.
A Perfect Moment
This evening I was sitting on a stool in the kitchen. On the counter was a The Writer magazine, a picture I was working on, and a glass of wine. The shouts and laughter of my son and husband bounced in from the other room. I coated the picture with finish, took a sip of wine, and read a few paragraphs on writing. Another coat, another sip, a little more reading.
Moments like that and the hectic day that awaits doesn’t even matter.
But now I’ve got to look at the novel. More wine may be needed.
The Writing on the Wall
Well, if one can’t sell a novel any other way, make it into art. I’ve taken a rough draft of a manuscript and shredded it. Soon those little bits will be framed and hanging on the wall. The damn thing will get read one way or another.
Because I’m avoiding ripping out my heart…go figure…
Could be writing…or something else…
Overheard (sort of)
This was not exactly overheard because it was said to me, but I’m describing it that way since I ignored it.
A man on standing idly on the sidewalk shouted as I walked by him, “Go home Jew!”
Where does one begin with all the things wrong with that?
The Rewrite Chronicles (notice a theme?)
Possible titles–from the not-too-bad to the ridiculous…
The Labyrinth House
The Promise of Lightning
The Labyrinth of Promises
The Girl and the Lightning
The Girl and the Labyrinth
Lightning and Promises
???????????? Errrrr………..what on earth am I thinking? Any of these sound workable to you? Or maybe I should ask if any of these say, “Pick me up and buy me!” ha.
