Speaking of Editing...

I just read a good post about editing on The Blood-Red Pencil. Some of the tips are obvious, some aren't. All of them are good. I'm going to be thinking about the 3-Act breakdown as I work on Cass some more. I'm a bit stuck and I think breaking it down this way will help me get over the sticky part.

Problem Solving

Today feels like a good day for a piggy back post, so I'm going to go off of Deb's post about last night's CWC meeting. One of the best things about a critique group that works is that problems get solved. There are always problems in drafts, whether it's a character, a scene, or bit of dialogue, there are things that need fixing. That's why it's called a draft, right?

Last night I was on the chopping block for the 2nd submission of the Cass book, and I knew the gang was going to comment on one particular thing. As part of getting people where they needed to be, I had to figure out a reason for them to be at a funeral, despite it being dangerous for one of the characters to be out in public. I thought about it, and played around with it, and tried so hard to figure out a good reason to get them all there. The best I could come up with wasn't really a good reason, but I couldn't figure anything else out.

When it came to my turn to get critiqued, Jenny started. Basically, she said, "Yeah, this part... it's not working."

I said, "Tell me about it."

Then Shane said, "Well, what if..." And there it was, exactly what I needed. It was simple, it was perfect, and I never even got close to figuring it out on my own. Writers groups can be a beautiful, beautiful thing.

This is Nifty

Just want to let y'all know that they're doing something cool over at Edittorrent. If you post a couple of paragraphs of your work, they'll edit it. The idea is to show folks what professional line editing looks like. How cool is that?

Ignoring Deb, U-Turns, and A Need for Titles

I managed to get everything done that I needed to yesterday, plus a quick shopping trip for new jeans, and wound up at the coffee shop plenty early. Latte in hand, I snagged the comfy seats by the fire, scooted the table up, and got to writing.

About a page later, I was at a climax point, where I had originally planned to wrap up the La Llarona story. The ghost has a hold of the boy, he's struggling to get away... and then he does. That was not my plan. Every writer talks about times when the story gets away from them and all of a sudden the writer realizes that they're not driving any more. In my case, I realized there were about three more pages to the story (if not more when I start to revise).

Before I could finish, Deb walked in with her laptop and said she was going to ignore me for a while to do some writing of her own. So, there we sat, ignoring each other for a while until the rest of the gang started to wander in. I finished my rough draft, finally, and resigned myself to the fact that this story is going to be more work than I originally planned it to be. I'll tell you right now, this rough draft is one of the roughest I've ever produced. Usually, I'm more of a writer who does mental pre-writing and then when I get to physical writing, I've got a pretty good idea of what's going on. Not this time. Not by a long shot.

I'm beginning to sense a pattern, as well. Right now I've got two stories I keep calling The __ Story and both have proven to be very problematic. I think the lack of clear title and the lack of clear vision go hand-in-hand. When I think of titles, I think of distilling the essence of what the story is all about and pasting a few words to that effect at the top. I can't help but think that once I get the perfect title for these problem stories, the rest of the difficulties I'm having with them will fix themselves. Focus, right? Clarity of vision.

So tell me, what's your title philosophy? Does having a strong title make it easier for you to writ the story that goes with it? Or, do titles come last in your writing process?

About the Notebook Switching...

As I worked on the La Llarona story, I started in a place of ambiguity (image of the woman at the bus stop, idea of a boy, but little more) and worked toward something more definite. Mid-WM, I figured out where I wanted the story to go. Then, Jenny and I switched notebooks and she took it someplace else. All I told her when she asked where it should go was, "Something spooky." That's what she did. Of course, since she's not psychic, how was she to know that she was doing it wrong?

I read what she wrote and my reaction was, "But that contradicts my plan, I can't use it." Then I thought, "I love this description here, though." Then, "And she did good with the spookiness." Bit by bit, I started thinking about what she did and about the real La Llarona story and what I was trying to do with the story. Bit by bit, I realized that although Jenny derailed my original train of thought, said derailing was exactly what I needed.

In a way, it's kind of like getting a pre-emptive critique. I imagine what would have happened when the group critiqued my original story, and I imagine their criticisms would suggest to do precisely what Jenny did for me.

Sometimes, it takes someone else to show us where the story is really going, especially when it's really going a different direction than we had planned. I can think of a couple of times this has happened to me, how about you? Any thoughts on collaboration? Has Jenny ever ruined one of your stories?

A Novel Trend

"Two pages does not a chapter make."
-Critique of my first novel submissions

When I first started submitting Oracle to the group, I had major pacing problems. Now, a couple of years later, I realize that I'm not the only one. In our big batch of group submisions there were two new novels being newly submitted. Both are rushed, and they aren't the only writers who've come through the group to do this. Weird.

I can't help but wonder what the big rush is. Are we just in a hurry to get done so we can say we've done it? Are we trying to pace ourselves and not put too much into one chapter for fear of neglecting the others? Is it an issue of being intimidated by writing something novel length? Or, are we just trying to cram too much in?

What helped me was making the novel into a movie in my head, then trying to translate that movie into what I wrote. The firmer things like scenery, props, gestures, costuming, etc. were in my head, the better I was at expanding scenes and slowing the heck down. It goes back to that idea of "show, don't tell." I had to show people the movie in my head, vs. tell them the story about the movie. That was my lightbulb moment. It still took a few months of practice before I could get the pacing about right, but I did get there.

Now we have two more people telling us about the movie, and getting them to show it will be quite the trick. Anyone have thoughts on other ways to explain pacing?

Leading a Horse to Water, Relative to Making Them Drink

I just, sorta, watched the movie Ladder 49. I had to stop because it was hurting me. Let me give you a brief idea of the movie: We open on a big burning building, the firefighters rush in, Joaquin Phoenix gets trapped, we flash back to the beginning of his career as a fireman and go from there. He's such a sympathetic character that I get tired of him. We get to the point where he's starting a family, and I turn the movie off.

For crying out loud, could they have tried any harder to make him Mr. Perfect? Doubtful, truly doubtful.

The really disappointing part is how they totally missed the boat on making a compelling story. First scene: fireman trapped, possibly doomed. Then, we flash back. Okay, I'm fine to there. Now, what would've made it work for me: our trapped fireman isn't perfect. In fact, he's heavily flawed. Now we see how he's really a jerk, but he still saves lives, and he's trapped. There's the built-in sympathy because he's near death, fighting the fact that we don't really like him. Now I'm interested. Alas, this is not the movie they made.

I just looked the movie up on imdb.com and it turns out the movie is based off a real person's life. Is that why they tried so hard? I'm sure the real person was a wonderful guy, but this is a movie, not a documentary. I wanted more than hero worship.

Part of me wonders if, by turning off the movie mid-way, I've missed the good part(s). However, my curiosity is simply not strong enough to make me watch more. The story wasn't good enough. I deserve better. I'm glad I'm not the only one who thinks so, either: "Instead of humanizing the firemen, the movie idolizes them, and thus renders them into cardboard characters." - Rotten Tomatoes, http://www.rottentomatoes.com/m/ladder_49/

Rods and Cones

"Let it sit and see what you need to have happen to connect the first bit to the last bit."
-Deb

A while back, I finished the chicken heart story. I wasn't completely happy with the way it came out, and I had that nagging sensation that something was fundamentally wrong with it. However, at the time, I hadn't the faintest idea of what needed fixing. Anyhow, I satisfied myself with the fact that it was done, and that I could always come back later.

Yesterday as I was lying in bed, half dozing, and the pieces started to come together. Get rid of the father in the story, it's about the mother and daughter. Father's dead. He gave the chicken to the daughter before he died, that's the why of the heart continuing to beat. Also the why of Mathilde letting Chloe keep the heart. Stretch out the timeline so Chloe has the heart a week or two before the accident. In my head, I could almost hear the click, click, click of issues resolving themselves. Now the story and the "whys" are perfectly clear.

Of course, it wasn't just a random epiphany. I was working backward. I wrote the story and felt like it had issues. All of it, that is, except for the last paragraph or two. Mathilde sitting in the hospital waiting room, holding the jar with the beating heart in it. That part rang true. I just had to work on getting the rest of the story to match up. In this case, my subconscious mind figured it out before my conscious mind could.

Sometimes, it seems like writing has more in common with night vision than anything else. You know, how when it's dark you can actually see things better if you don't look directly at them?