Critiquing Step 2: Be a Reader First, Writer Second
Back in June, at my last grad school residency, I heard something from several first term students that really started to bother me. “I had to go back and re-read this several times looking for mistakes to mark.” I didn’t make the comment then that was running through my head, but will now take the opportunity to do so: critiquing is not “looking for mistakes.” Yes, mistakes are found during the critiquing process (hopefully!), but that should not be our attitude when we sit down to critique something.
When describing what I do for a living to someone the other day, I explained it as: I get paid to point out other people’s mistakes. As a copy editor, my job is to look for mistakes; and with great glee, I obliterate comma splices, unnecessary capitalizations, and grammatical errors of all flavors. However, this is not a good approach to take when critiquing.
Why?
For several reasons, but primarily because if we set out to find mistakes, we are going to overlook the positive by becoming mired down in the negative. No, you’re not always going to be able to find something positive to say about everyone’s writing all the time. And sometimes, when there is just nothing else you can say about someone’s work and you must give a critique, suggesting ways to improve the grammar or sentence structure may be the way to go (be positive and encouraging, don’t berate the person).
I know there are some critique groups that bring their work to group, read it there, and critique on the fly, but these are usually groups that have been together for quite some time and the members are familiar with each other’s stories and writing styles. Because my experience with critiquing has always been where I have time—days or weeks—to read something before having to give my critique (either via e-mail or in person in a workshop), that’s the style of critiquing I’m going to focus on.
The First Read-Through
When you sit down to read the latest novel from your favorite published author, do you do it with red pen in hand just waiting to start marking up the pages? Of course not. The first time you sit down with your crit partners’ work, do so as if you were reading a published novel. Just read it.
Because you do want to comment on things that strike you as a reader, keep a notepad or a pad of Post-it notes or, if you’re reading it on your computer (not suggested for the first read-through, but understandable because paper and toner are expensive), start a new document where you can write down your initial thoughts and reactions to the piece. Okay, if you’re like me, you probably feel like you must mark the manuscript for punctuation/grammar the first time through, but try to refrain.
On the first read-through, read for clarity and flow, story and characters:
- Does the story (chapter, excerpt) hold your interest to the end?
- Do the scenes flow smoothly, transitioning well from one to another?
- Were you at any point confused about details, about dialogue (who was speaking), or about the story?
- Are the characters interesting?
- Do you get a sense of the plot or major conflict that will be the driving force of the entire novel?
- If this were a published novel, would you want to read the entire thing based on the excerpt you’ve critiqued?
The Second Read-Through
Now is your chance to put everything you know about writing into practice. With your notes from the first reading at hand, read through the manuscript again, this time, marking/commenting on the details:
- Identify the Point of View. Is it consistent? Does the writer have a good grasp of it? Are changes in POV smooth and logical?
- Are sensory details present? Does the author use all five senses? Are there places where sensory detail could be added to enhance the story?
- What is the setting? Do you get a real sense of place through the author’s description? Does the author give too much description and detract from the story?
- Is there a good balance between showing and telling? Are verbs active (climbed) rather than passive (was climbing)? Signpost “telling” words to watch for: she felt, she saw, she heard, she thought, she wondered, etc.
- Look for a balance between narrative and dialogue. Does the author indicate who is speaking without using a “he said” type dialogue tag after each quote? Does the author use narrative to indicate the tone of voice/attitude rather than “embellished” dialogue tags such as she huffed, he bellowed, she remarked slyly.
- Do the main characters have believable flaws/virtues? Do secondary characters add to the story without stealing the spotlight? Do all characters show believable emotions?
- Do the main characters have a clear motive powerful enough to create/sustain conflict? What do you (as the reader) feel are the characters’ goals/motives?
- Is there a distinctiveness in the characters’ “speaking voices” and internal/POV thoughts or does everyone “sound” the same?
- Is the language of the narrative and dialogue appropriate for the time and place of the setting?
- Does the author avoid clichéd or dog-eared language? Is the author’s voice/style appropriate for the genre?
Obviously, this is not an exhaustive list, nor do you have to answer every question to provide good feedback.
Now you’ve got a good start on a critique—but you aren’t yet ready to send it back to your partner. Stay tuned for Step 3 . . .
Critiquing Step 1: Becoming a Pot-Bellied Pig
Just go with me on this one—I have to have my analogy, or I won’t be happy.
As I’ve thought about critiquing, I’ve realized that the first thing we each need to learn is how to receive critiques well. Because until we know how to receive critiques, we will never be ready to give critiques.
I’ve seen several shows on Animal Planet about the [now-waning] phenomenon of having pigs as pets rather than dogs, cats, or other “normal” animals. As I’ve learned more about them, I’ve discovered there is much we can learn from these humble animals. (Facts are taken from the Sea World/Busch Gardens website: http://www.seaworld.org.)
1. Pot-bellied pigs have tough, sensitive skin. An oxymoron, you say? According to the SW/BG website, these creatures have skin that is tough enough to repel parasites and fleas and yet is still sensitive enough to burn in the sun. As writers, when our work is critiqued, we need to also have “tough, sensitive” skin. We need to be tough enough that we don’t take the critiques personally, and that any negative or overly-harsh remarks don’t do more than maybe just sting at the surface level. But we also need to have the sensitivity to be able to take in the comments so that we can improve our writing—but without getting burned. You cannot write FOR your critique partners—they cannot control your story, characters, or writing style. Pigs learn where the best mud-holes are so they can cover their skin to keep it from burning and yet still enjoy being outside doing . . . whatever it is they like to do. They still receive the warmth and benefits of being outside in the sunlight, without the damaging effects. Pay attention to and learn from the constructive criticism and practice keeping the negative stuff from penetrating your “tough, sensitive” and damaging you as a person and writer.
2. Pot-bellied pigs have excellent hearing. Be a good listener (figuratively if your critique group is one of the online varieties). Each semester when we assembled on campus at Seton Hill for our week-long intensive residency, part of our required work was critiquing 10 pages of writing for ten to twelve other students. The rules of these workshop critique sessions are detailed and strictly adhered to (I will summarize them and refer to them throughout this series of blogs). One of the most important rules is that when the student’s work is being critiqued (yes, aloud and face to face), the student is not allowed to respond to any comments until after everyone has had their chance to speak. Usually we take notes on everyone’s comments (although they give us their annotated copy afterward), to be able to answer questions when it is our turn to speak. I have seen several students (usually first termers) become defensive during this process, and their turn to speak is usually filled with defending their work to anyone who said anything the least bit not-flattering. The first time we ever get honest, objective feedback from someone on our writing, it can feel like a personal attack—or, for those of you who are parents, like an attack on your most beloved child. We may have never shared our writing with anyone else, or if we have, it may have been family members who only had wonderful, positive, flattering things to say afterward. Before being critiqued, we think we are the most wonderful writers in the world. No one likes to have their weaknesses, shortcomings, or mistakes pointed out—especially when it is something as personal as our writing. So we become defensive when we do receive criticism—even the positively-worded, constructive kind. I’ve been guilty of this—I still feel this way occasionally: They don’t know what they’re talking about. They don’t know as much about writing as I do. They’re only questioning this because they haven’t done the level of research I’ve done. When I realize I’m doing this, I have to stop, go wallow in the mud, and then come back to it with my tough, sensitive skin and pig-ears firmly in place. No, not all comments and advice given in critiques will be useful or even valid—which is why it’s important to have two or three critique partners. If only one person raises a question, then it may be something you can leave alone. However, if two or all three comment on it, it’s definitely an area of concern. But listen to everything your critiquers have to say first. Don’t put up your defenses and stop listening, because you may miss the key that will be the difference between producing something mediocre and something fabulous.
3. Pot-bellied pigs are herd animals. They are loyal (some say loving), each has a role to perform within the group, and they protect each other. Consider your critique group your herd. As a member of that herd, you have a role to perform which includes giving as much as receiving support to/from the other members. Each member of your “herd” will have different strengths and weaknesses. Learn what your strengths are and ask your crit partners to focus on the areas you feel you are weakest. Are you good at grammar but don’t know much about Point of View? Get your critiquers to focus on showing you how to go deeper into your characters’ heads—or even help you decide if you’re using the correct POV for the story. Are you great at description but don’t know a simile from a cliché? Get your partners to focus on your wording or even suggest rewrites that can help you learn how to turn a phrase in a unique way that can become your signature voice (no copying someone else’s style!).
4. Pot-bellied pigs have personalities and interests apart from the herd. The most important thing to remember in the critiquing process is that your writing is still YOUR writing. You cannot be so bound by the critiques you receive that you alter your voice, style, or story to fit what someone else thinks is best. You must remain true to your inner voice and to your story. One of the main complaints about writers who focus too much on critique group or workshop feedback is that they begin to lose their unique voice and style as a writer. If you are uncomfortable with changes your partners suggest or feel they aren’t right for your story after careful consideration and study, then don’t make the changes. Now, that doesn’t mean they aren’t right and that your writing won’t suffer for not making the change, but above all else, you must be true to yourself as a writer.
Critiquing—An Introduction
Ever since finishing my series of blogs on networking, I’ve been wanting to tackle the topic of critiquing. Right off the top, I’ll mention that critiquing is a subject that can create disagreement, so even though I’ll be using information and/or quotes from others on the subject, this will be a somewhat subjective discussion.
I like critiquing. I especially like critiquing for beginning writers—I usually railed against having to critique the “newbies” each semester at school, but once I started, and especially once I was sitting across the table from them, I really got into it. I like being critiqued—for the most part. I like being critiqued by people who know how to do it properly and who have similar if not more advanced writing skills to mine.
The problem I have with being critiqued is two-fold:
1. I get blocked in my writing because I’m concerned about what my critiquers are going to say about my technique, style, word choice (oh, and characters and story) because I critique those things in others’ writing. (I’ve expounded upon this point at length recently in this blog.)
2. Once I receive a critique, I want to go back and fix all the “problems” my critique partners pointed out before moving forward with my writing. (Which is why it took me nearly three years to write Stand-In-Groom.)
What I’ve had to learn to do—and what I advise my mentees to do—is to read the critique, internalize the comments, learn from them, but keep moving forward. Did the critique point out the over use of certain words or phrases? Write them on a sticky note and post it on the side of the computer monitor so that as you continue the forward progress of your story/novel, that reminder is there—and it’s still there after you finish and go back to start your revisions.
After writing three versions of the first ten chapters of Stand-In Groom, my thesis novel, in the course of a year (two of them before starting at Seton Hill), I had to force myself to move forward with the story. This was very difficult, as I had a couple of major plot changes occur when writing the middle of the manuscript. I wanted to go back and change the first half of the novel, but I had to have a complete manuscript by the end of my second semester of school. So I started a “Changes To Be Made” file. As I reformed and restructured my plot, I would make notes to myself in this file of what I would need to change in the beginning to set up the new plot/characterization. I read my critiques as I received them, but just set them aside and plowed on through, just to get to the end.
Then, when revision time came, I pulled out my notes and all of the critiques I’d received. Before beginning on the rewriting, I just read through all of them and made a new set of notes, compiling all of my changes and the consensus of comments from the critiques (weighing my Faculty Mentor’s comments most heavily, of course).
Being a good critique partner is a talent, but can be learned as a skill if worked at hard enough. So, let’s explore together what it takes to learn the skill of both giving and receiving critiques. I’d love for you to post your comments, questions, and concerns about your critique experiences.
Alas, Poor William!
Last Monday down at the courthouse as I was waiting to be called up on jury duty, I took the little bit of down time to re-read what I’ve written of RH. I just wanted to make sure everything was flowing before continuing on with chapter nine. But I was already ruminating on a problem.At the beginning of chapter nine, I have the hero, William, dressing for an event to which he must wear his formal naval captain’s uniform. As I have written that he received a knighthood many years prior to this, I went online to research what sort of decoration he would have—a medal worn around the neck on a ribbon? Adornment on his uniform? (No to the medal—only after 1815 and I’m in 1814; yes to the adornment—I found a couple of great pictures of what it would look like so I could describe it). The more I thought about it, the more I realized that, for several reasons, I need to strip William of his knighthood and all privileges and honors pertaining thereto, including the title of “Sir.”
Reason 1: Too Many Sirs. This has been an ongoing issue for me as I’ve written this novel, as Julia’s father has a knighthood, which is necessary to secure the social standing needed for the story to work. Then there is the antagonist, Sir Drake, who is a baronet, a title also a necessity to the story. Because the title “Sir” acquired with a knighthood is considered higher than the naval rank of “Admiral,” he would have been referred to by those not of the Royal Navy as “Sir Edward.” The baronet would be addressed as, “Sir Drake.” So, William would also have been called “Sir William.” Too many Sirs! So, now William becomes merely “Captain Ransome.”
Reason 2: Lady Augusta. Before she was Lady Witherington, Augusta Pembroke was the daughter of a spendthrift baronet. As a girl, she planned to marry her cousin, thus securing the Pembroke Baronetcy would remain within her control should anything happen to her father and brother. But her cousin went off and married a wealthy woman of lower birth (okay, yes, if you’ve read Persuasion, Augusta is based on Elizabeth Elliot, the older sister). In retaliation, Augusta found herself a wealthy man of lower birth (then-Captain Edward Witherington) and married him—assuming, of course, that her older brother, who had by then inherited the title from their father, would marry and have children to whom the title would pass. Augusta came quickly to hate being married to a sailor, even one as wealthy as her husband, especially when he purchased the plantation in Jamaica and sent her to live there with their twin children. While she languished in exile in the heathen West Indies, her brother died of a fever—unmarried and childless. So the title then fell to her uncle—the father of the cousin she’d wanted to marry. The uncle held the title for less than a month before he, too, died—although he at least had the honor of perishing in war before he could return to England. At nineteen years old, Drake Pembroke inherited the baronetcy. Lady Augusta Witherington now sees the union of Julia and Sir Drake as her ultimate vindication—she believes that with their marriage, the title—but more importantly Marchwood Hall, the ancestral home—will once again come under her control. She doesn’t care that Sir Drake is a gambler and a wastrel—in fact, that works to her advantage, because she will be able to control him by his constant need for more money. Julia’s bridal inheritance will only go so far, especially with all the debts he had already accrued. This is reason enough for Augusta to object to Julia’s marrying William Ransome. But, the fact that he is now untitled—that his name carries no honor (at least in a social sense), gives her that much more inducement to do whatever she can to stop Julia from marrying him.
Reason 3: Historical Plausibility. As I looked for information on the decoration of the knighthood I’d chosen for William, I learned that before 1815 when three divisions of the Knighthood of the Order of the Bath were created, only 36 men carried the title at any given time, and the action for which they received the recognition had to be something well beyond what William is supposed to have won it for. Now, I could make up a much more elaborate scenario—especially since it happened well before the beginning of the story and I wouldn’t have to show it. But, combined with the reasons mentioned above, it’s better for the story if I take it away from him.
Poor, poor William.
Jury Duty
Wow! I can’t believe it’s been since last Friday that I posted anything to my blog. I’d gotten in such a rhythm of finding things to write about every day, too.
If you’re wondering why I’ve been on hiatus it’s because I’ve been serving on jury duty all week. I reported at 8:30 Monday morning to the courthouse in downtown Nashville knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that I would be called up—and sure enough, I was! I ended up sitting on a criminal drug possession, intent to sell, and sale case (seven separate counts). The whole first day was jury selection (snooze fest—same questions asked of each person with 18 people dismissed and replaced) and opening arguments. Tuesday and Wednesday were witnesses for the prosecution. Late Wednesday afternoon, after most of the evidence—including almost $650,000 worth of cocaine in evidence bags—was passed around the jury, the prosecution rested. We were bummed, knowing that, with the list of witnesses that had been read before the trial started (to make sure none of the potential jurors knew any of the witnesses), we would be there until Friday. But, after we came back from our afternoon break, the defense lawyer stood up and said they were not presenting anything. None of the alibis he’d promised, none of the proof of the defendant’s whereabouts—nothing. So Wednesday afternoon was filled up with closing arguments and the reading of the charges and jury instructions. And the judge literally read everything to us—it took about 30 minutes for him to read all of it. By this time it was about 4:00 and they like to close down for the day at 4:30 to get out before the worst of rush hour traffic. So, we went back to the deliberation room (where they took us every break and for lunch), and I was elected foreperson of the jury—go figure.
We adjourned for the day and went home—completely exhausted. And yet whenever I did fall asleep last night, I kept having weird dreams about the case or about being in the courtroom or about the jury and so had a very restless night.
This morning, I figured it wouldn’t take us very long to deliberate. I’d hoped we would be finished by lunchtime. We started around 9:30 (we had to go into the courtroom for the roll-call which had to be wedged in between a couple of the judge’s docket hearings). By noon, we had completed deliberation on four of the original six charges. They provided us with lunch every day, so we took our time, knowing that the judge/court would be on lunch break until at least 1:00. After lunch, we finished the two remaining counts before us and sat around waiting until the defense lawyer showed back up before we could go in. I was SO NERVOUS reading the verdict. My hands were shaking and I couldn’t even raise my eyes from the pages in front of me. Then, come to find out that because one of the counts we found him guilty of was possession of a handgun, that brought an additional charge because he’s a convicted felon (voluntary manslaughter). So it was BACK to the deliberation room to decide on that charge, which didn’t take but about ten minutes and most of that was spent in deciphering the judgment sheets from his felony conviction in 1997 to figure out exactly what it had been for (we were a very curious jury, especially since we heard nothing on behalf of the defendant). Then we had to wait for the judge to be available to hear our verdict.
After I read the final verdict and he dismissed us, they took us back to the deliberation room where the judge joined us and told us the “whole story” of this case—of the fifteen other people in this drug ring arrested who all pled-out, about the court-appointed defense lawyer (who couldn’t find his way out of a paper-bag, much less cross-examine a witness), and about other evidence in the case that had been suppressed. He also told us the sentence he would give (in another month or so): 15 years (no parole) for the drug charges plus an additional 2-5 years for the weapons charge. So this guy will be in prison for at least 17 years.
As I looked at this man, who is only a few months younger than I, I saw nothing in his eyes—no light, no life, no emotion . . . just emptiness. How sad it must be to know that the decisions he’s made have led him to this. But how much more said it is that he probably had no one to show him that there is a better way to live. That honest, hard work brings fulfillment of a job well done. That a life filled with Christ’s love is better than the enormous amounts of cash and drugs he possessed. I just pray that God will have someone already in place in the prison who can show this man the way to the foot of the Cross.
Retirement Plan
I did something that made me feel really grown-up today . . . I filled out all the paperwork to roll over my pension from my previous job into the retirement plan at my new job. There were a few questions I didn’t quite understand until I compared the letter of explanation of my pension from old job with the questions on the form for the new job plan, but upon signing the forms, I had a very nice feeling of maturity and stability.
But filling them out made me start thinking a lot about the future, which I don’t like to do a lot because from where I sit now, still single at age 35 with no marital prospects on the horizon, living in a rental house, having just started what is basically an entry-level job on my chosen career path in the publishing industry, and with a decade or more of student loan payments about to begin, the future is a little bit scary and a good bit daunting. I prefer to think in shorter terms—jury duty next week, ACFW conference next month, trip to England next summer.
When I was 25, I could no more imagine what I would be doing at 35 than I could imagine being a cabbage farmer on the third moon of Jupiter. I did have a goal set that I would be finished with school and starting my “real” career by this time—which I accomplished. But that was just a “goal” for some amorphous, distant future. Now at 35, I cannot conceive of what I will be doing when I turn 45. I would like to be well advanced in my career, an editor at a larger publishing house than where I currently work, teaching creative writing as an adjunct, and traveling to writing conferences representing my house and teaching seminars. Of course, when I was 25 and had just started working at the newspaper, I had no idea I would still be working there until three weeks before I turned 35. How many places will I work in the next ten years? I like stability, but I also do have goals (dare I call them ambitions?) for where I want my career to go. Hopefully, I will be able to fulfill most of those goals here at Ideals/Guideposts. And who knows, with the expansion of several lines here, including the fiction line through Guideposts, in ten years, this may be the “larger” publishing house for which I’d like to be working. I hope so.
Although my career plans are a large part of my goal for the future, the major goal for me is being published. Up until five years ago, I never dreamed of submitting anything I wrote, even to contests. I didn’t want anyone reading my stuff. It was mine. Private. Personal. Of course, up until that point in time, much of what I’d written had been more writing therapy, so it was too emotional to share. Since my initial foray into letting people (my mom and grandmother for starters) read my writing, I’ve discovered that I love writing stories that other people like to read. I am energized by positive feedback. Whenever someone tells me that they really like my story and can’t wait to read more, it makes me want to keep writing, to keep improving my writing, so that I can continue pleasing them. Yes, I do know that I won’t always be able to please everyone, and I know not everyone will like my writing or stories.
But in addition to writing stories people like to read, I’ve started taking a more pragmatic view of it, especially now that I have a couple of paid freelance assignments under my belt. As I stare in the face of financial commitments that will stretch thin the salary I make, being published has the added advantage of advances and royalties. I am not someone who will write only if it’s going to be published. At least not right now. I write my novels because I love the characters and the stories. Of course, if I do end up selling the two series I’m currently working on, I may not have as much of an opportunity to write something just because I love it. I may have to write stories I’m not quite as interested in because of contractual obligations. But I hope I never lose my love of just writing stories.
As I think about my eventual retirement, I hope that by that time, be it thirty or forty or fifty years from now, not only will I have met and exceeded my goals, but will be able to continue to add to my “retirement savings” by continuing to set and meet goals—writing, teaching, editing—and be able to look back and know that I remained true to the goals I set with God’s guidance by not focusing so much on the future, but by focusing on what I can do each day to make my future happen.
Stringing Beads
I learned that you should feel when writing, not like Lord Byron on a mountain top, but like a child stringing beads in kindergarten—happy, absorbed and quietly putting one bead on after another. —Brenda Ueland
The faster I write the better my output. If I’m going slow, I’m in trouble. It means I’m pushing the words instead of being pulled by them. —Raymond Chandler
Maybe editing a book on teaching children how to read and write is getting to me. But in a good way. It’s made me remember the joy I had as a child when first discovering words and language—of the joy I still get when I learn a new word or hear a cleverly crafted turn of phrase.
In my previous job, I subscribed to Merriam-Webster’s “word of the day” e-mail and included the word of the day on the e-mail I sent out each morning to the assistants and managers in the department alerting them to who was out of the office that day. I was always disappointed when it was a word I already knew. I loved it when it was a word that I could use in a story.
I’ve been doing some serious intellectual wrestling with myself recently (see “Just Write” entry below) about just being able to let the ideas flow or getting blocked because I’m too worried about the technical aspects of writing.
Last night, as I started writing chapter 8 of Ransome’s Honor, I realized that one of my problems is that I’m trying to force myself to write during times of day that have never been my most creative nor productive—any time before 10:00 p.m.
As a night person, my energy level starts to rise around the time Jon Stewart comes on, and peaks around 12:30 a.m. Now that I’m in a job where I must arrive at 8:00 a.m., this has caused me to alter my schedule to trying to go to bed (with the lights off) by 11 p.m. A hard task, because my brain is still going ninety mph at that time. But because over the last year, most of the time I designated for “writing” was spent on editing/rewriting, which I could concentrate on better earlier in the evening, the time before bed became the time when I read—trying to focus my mind on one thing long enough to allow fatigue to carry me off to sleep.
Last night, though, I fired up the laptop and started typing in some pages I’d written during a burst of inspiration at work earlier in the week. In about 40 minutes, I’d written five pages, with no thought of whether the POV was too omniscient, the verbs too passive, or certain words used repetitively. And I felt just like that child in kindergarten, focused only on the beads. The story was pulling me—making me type faster and faster just to keep up with the flow of ideas and images in my head.
As Madeline L’Engle wrote in Walking on Water, I got out of the way and let the story take over. Just like I used to as a child. No worries, no anxiety, no wondering what anyone else would think of it. Just sitting there stringing beads.
And it felt really good.
Sounding Out the Words
“The goal of reading is not to sound out words but to unlock meaning.” Jill Frankel Hauser, Wow! I’m Reading! Williamsonbooks/Ideals Publications, © 2000
I don’t really remember the process of learning how to read. I remember not liking to read aloud because, occasionally, the letters would switch places on the page and Malibu would become Mabilu, nova—avon. I’m not dyslexic by any stretch of the imagination—I just think my brain skipped ahead, then fell back to where it was supposed to be, mixing up the letters in the process.
I do remember that I disliked spelling bees in school, but I usually did pretty well on spelling and vocabulary tests (aside from the occasional mixed-up letters). As an adult, I know the reason why I’m a bad oral speller is because I’m visually oriented. If someone asks me to spell a word longer than about five or six letters, I scrounge for a scrap of paper and pen to write it down before trying to spell it out for them.
The quote above is from a book I’m editing at work—a reading how-to for parents of 3-to-7-year-olds. Since I had to retype the entire 160 page tome, I’ve spent over a week thinking about reading and stories and how much of an impact the written word has had on my life, and how thankful I am that I have a decent level of mastery over the English language, both spoken and written.
Because I was exposed to print as something more than just a necessary evil—the “sounding out” of the words—I fell in love with the world of fiction. I could find new worlds, live different lives, meet new and interesting people all by reading (which was great for a socially inept introvert like I was!). I thank God that both of my parents are avid readers and that sitting in the living room quietly on a Saturday or Sunday afternoon reading was a normal occurrence in our home.
As children, we live in a world of make-believe—just observe any child at play. At a certain age, though, most children are taught that make-believe is childish and to grow up, they must stop playing—stop making believe—and live in a world of fact, not fantasy. Once again, I must thank God that my parents never did this to me. At 13 or 14 years old, when I told my mother of stories I wished my favorite series of YA romances (the Sunfire series) would do, she encouraged me not just to write the publisher (Scholastic) but to write the stories myself. Even though I never completed writing one, I did query the publisher (and received my first, very kind, rejection). But those first original ideas committed to paper (before, all of my stories had been acted out with my Barbies) immersed me in a world of “unlocking the meaning” of words and language. I began to see weekly vocabulary lists as more than just something to be memorized—they added meaning, richness, and texture to my world. To this day, my one must-have writing tool is Roget’s Encyclopedic Thesaurus (the one arranged thematically, not dictionary-style) or access to http://www.thesaurus.com.
As expounded upon in yesterday’s post, it took me many years to get a grasp on the technical aspects of writing fiction, and only in the last five years have I written anything I’m willing to let anyone else read. But since as far back as 22 or 23 years ago, writing has added meaning to my life as much or more than reading. Writing for me is sounding-out the literal and figurative words that make up the world around and inside of me so that I can unlock its meaning.
Just Write
Perhaps it would be better not to be a writer, but if you must, then write. If all feels hopeless, if that famous ‘inspiration’ will not come, write. If you are a genius, you’ll make your own rules, but if not—and the odds are against it—go to your desk no matter what your mood, face the icy challenge of the paper; write. –J. B. Priestly
If you’re at all familiar with my writing journey (detailed several times in this blog), you know that after my first professional writers’ conference in 2001, over the course of about 20 months, I completed three manuscripts. All first drafts, all written from beginning to end with no going back for revisions when things changed mid-stream. Then, it took me two years to produce another complete manuscript.
Why?
I started focusing more on the craft of writing than on the story. I worried about what my critique partners were going to say (passive verbs, repetitive words, info-dumps) and about the feedback I’d get from my faculty mentors (using the word “as” too much, or starting too many sentences with an –ing verb form). Of course, as I was in graduate school and writing it in order to pass and graduate, I had to worry about technique as much as story. But now the hardest task of all begins . . . to see if I can stop worrying about craft and just focus on the story once again.
Back in the “good old days” before I knew much of anything about point of view, plot structure, goals-motivations-conflicts, and so on, I just wrote. I wrote because I loved it. I had a cast of characters I loved—characters I’d built off myself, my best friend, and our circle of friends from college—and I spent five or six years just writing scenes to be able to spend time with them. As I grew and developed and moved on with my life, so did they. I wrote over 200,000 words of scenes for those characters, yet never had a complete manuscript.
In 1999 when I returned to college, the first class I took was a general Creative Writing class. It was in this class that the best English professor I’ve ever had, Dr. Annie Stevens, “forced” me to write a last chapter. I’d never written a last chapter. That would be too much like saying goodbye to the “friends” who had seen me through a major depression, dropping out of school, moving to Washington DC to live with my parents, and then moving to Nashville where I knew no one. So I cheated a bit on the assignment and wrote a last chapter to Book One of this massive tome.
But those characters and their stories weren’t the only ones I worked on during that time. I had other characters running around in my head telling me their stories, wanting me to write their stories. Then, I went to the Blue Ridge Mountains Christian Writers’ Conference in 2001. I couldn’t wait to get home and put into practice everything I’d learned, most especially from T. Davis Bunn’s continuing session to write the story from beginning to end, then set it aside for a while before coming back to it to edit.
That summer, I did my Writing Seminar elective at Trevecca and as part of it, I wrote synopses for a new series that had been percolating in my head for a while. I started writing What Matters Most. It was an exercise in learning 3rd person limited POV, conflict, main and secondary plotlines, incorporation of the spiritual element, and wrapping up all of the characters’ stories in a limited number of words (it ended up being about 120,000 words, or about 130 pages longer than a typical trade-paperback novel). I started writing it in July, and at Christmas that year, I gave to my mother and my grandmother copies of what I’d written so far—about 25 chapters. I will never forget my mother who sat there reading it that afternoon saying, “I’d better not get to the end of this notebook and find out that it isn’t finished. What motivation to keep writing!
By April 2002, I wrote the epilogue of What Matters Most. I screamed. I cried. I laughed. I jumped up and down. I wanted to call someone—but didn’t know anyone who would understand the emotion of what it felt like to write THE END. Of course, it is quite apropos that my first “baby” took nine months to write.
Almost immediately, I started writing The Best Laid Plans, the story that follows chronologically after WMM. By the time the first annual ACFW (then ACRW) conference rolled around, I was tired of it. At the conference, ideas for other stories started forming and taking shape in my head and in the notebook I carried around all weekend. But I had to finish Plans. So when I got home, I did what I could with drawing the two romances to a conclusion, and ended it in November 2002.
When I got home from Christmas with the family, I was scheduled for an MRI on my back. Even though I hadn’t done any actual writing since finishing Plans, I had done some story-writeups, coming up with a series of what I thought would be category romances, creating a secondary character in each one that would then go on to his or her own story. On December 31, 2002, while lying on the bed of the MRI machine, one of these stories burst into full flower in my head and I spent that twenty or thirty minutes creating the characters and story in my head.
As I completed my second to last semester of undergrad work, I wrote Love Remains—my tribute to my favorite Jane Austen novel, Persuasion. Started it in January, finished it at the beginning of May, right after my last final exam. Although shorter than the first two, at only around 75,000 words, it, too, was a writing exercise of writing when under severe time pressures as well as just focusing on two characters and their story.
Since that time—May 2003—I have completed ONE novel. Granted, it is the most polished, professional novel I’ve written. I have completed three revisions of it, and have notes for a fourth revision. It also secured me a Master of Arts degree.
In May 2005, I submitted for school workshop the first chapter of a new historical idea I was working on. By August 2006, I have written a bunch of chapters for it (while also completing and revising Happy Endings), and yet after a year of writing have very little progress to show for a year’s worth of work.
But I am determined to WRITE. Just to write. Not to edit, not to rewrite. I am determined to get this manuscript finished before doing any more rewrites. If I repeat words or use passive verbs too much, too bad. I’ll fix it later. What is most important now is just to get the story written. Having gone through the revision process—extensively—I know most of what I’m worried about not getting right now can be fixed later. What is harder to fix is not having a completed story.
So, I am now stating publicly my goal: I would like to finish the first draft of my historical novel, Ransome’s Honor by Christmas 2006. I would also like to have at least the first third of the follow-up novel of my contemporary, Maid of Honor, written. Can I do it? Sure, if I commit myself to writing every day. Just writing. Not worrying about anything else, just writing.
My Reader’s Block Is Lifted!
I posted a few days ago about how I haven’t been able to read books in the genres I write in in years. But, hallelujah, the reader’s block is lifted.
When I got home from the MTCW monthly meeting this morning, a new book was waiting in my mailbox from amazon.com: Possibilities by Debra White Smith, the sixth book of her Jane Austen series where she has taken Austen’s books and rewritten them as contemporary inspirational romances.
I was determined to sit down and read one book this weekend—thinking it would be one of the stack of historical inspirationals sitting beside my bed. But when I walked in with this one, knowing it is based on my favorite of all of Austen’s novels, Persuasion, I decided to give it a go. And wham, bam! Four hours later, I had read the whole book, making only minor comments of frustration over some copy-editing mistakes.
Now that I’ve conquered that, I’m going to try to get some writing of my own done the rest of today and see if I can do a repeat-performance and read another book tomorrow afternoon!
KayeDacus.com 