Writing is Rewriting

 Donis here. First of all, let me join the chorus of delight and welcome our newest Type M author, Catherine Dilts! Oh, how glad we are to have you!

On a less joyful note, I’m still slogging along in the jungles of the first draft of a new novel. When I’m trying to get a first draft to look like something and having a tough time of it (which is always), I often wonder why I put myself through it. But then if I didn’t have a first draft I wouldn’t have anything to revise. I much prefer doing revisions to writing the first draft of a novel. In my metaphorical little world, writing the first draft is a coarse, rough, sweaty process. You slap that gesso on the wall by the bucket load and slather on the background paint. It’s messy and hard and, for me, a daily act of will to accomplish. But rewriting takes skill. It requires a true eye, real delicacy and finesse to shape that big old expanse of plaster into a work of art.

With rewrites, you get to see the story change shape and, if you’re lucky and skilled enough, grow into something beautiful. Of course, there are those horrible moments when you realize that you’re going to have to lose a scene that you really liked, or that word of which you are so enamored because it no longer fits the picture. Perhaps that’s when you know you’re a real writer, when you can cut good stuff for the greater good of the story.

I'll let you in on a little secret, Dear Reader. I keep a file of great lines/scenes/chapters I've had to cut inhales of finding the perfect home for them in some future story. In fact, some of those cut lines/scenes/chapters had led to a future story on their own.

Now I'm facing the ending of the book and wondering if I can pull it off. It's horrible to know exactly how you want it to come off and not be sure you have the chops to do it. I've never quite achieved the brilliant, knock-your-socks-off triumph that I had envisioned, but I'm usually pleased enough in the end. I often don't know exactly how it's going to end, myself, until it does. Once I do finish a book, I love to go back over it and fiddle with it, changing a word here, a sentence there, like polishing a new-made piece of furniture.  Pulling off a great ending requires not only skill, but insight and not a little luck!

Maybe this time!

Now that I think about it, I have to admit that I don't readily feel disappointment when something doesn't pan out, nor am I particularly elated by success. I've had a lot of both success and failures, and when the dust settles, nothing much is changed and I am still me. Another author told me once that she shopped a novel around for eight years, and she grew so calloused by rejection that when her agent did sell it, she felt nothing. I can easily be seduced by praise, though, and I wouldn't say no to a Pulitzer Prize. Something has to keep you going in this business, because the likelihood is that it won't be riches.