Rewrite Time

 I've finally finished the first draft of my new book, and have begun the rewrite. We've all heard many times that writing is rewriting, and anyone who's ever scribbled a page knows it's true. At least I've never met a literary Mozart, whose first draft is so perfect that it doesn't need any alteration. In fact, most authors I know, even very well known and accomplished authors, think of their first drafts as something too embarrassing to be seen by anyone. It's the rewriting that makes the book. If I may repeat something I've written here before – and never let it be said I missed an opportunity to repeat myself – you have to have that block of marble before you can carve out a statue of David.

Rewriting is the fun part, as well. The first draft is eked out of you like bone arrow, but with the rewrites, you have something to play with, to refine, to remodel, to put makeup on and make beautiful. I've begun rereading and adjusting, making sure the beginning matches the end. After the first draft, my beginnings never do match the end, for somewhere in the middle of the writing, I changed my mind about this character, or this action, or this story line. And I didn't waste time by going back to the beginning and fixing it to fit my new vision. No, no, that way lies madness. I can get (and have gotten) caught up in an endless merry-go-round of fixes and never reach the end of a first draft. I just keep going until the MS was done, with every confidence that I can repair all the inconsistencies in the next draft.

As I reread the story, it's interesting to see how it all turned out, to remember what I originally had in mind and see how the tale changed as I moved through it. Questions come up as I put all my ducks in a row. Here is one I always struggle with: how much explanation is too much?

For instance, there is what looks like a coincidence in one scene of the new book. Coincidences do happen in life, but you've got to be very careful about putting one in a mystery story, lest the action seem contrived. And yet, when I set about to explain how this coincidence came about, I didn't like it. Too much exposition and not enough action.

Do others of you writers out there struggle to find a balance between making it real and making it exciting, or romantic, or terrifying, or however you want it to turn out?

I've read and loved many books that elide over illogical plot points. Some best-sellers, too. As long as I like the story and the characters, I don't really demand existential reality in my reading. Yet I don't like holes in the plot big enough to drive a truck through. They take me out of the story. Have I done that, or shall I let my coincidence stand and devil take the hindmost? I'll have to let my pre-readers tell me what they think.

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.

More on ducks and finding the path

 Donis's post on rewriting struck a chord with me. The first draft is always a challenge. Fashioning a story out of nothingness is like standing at the edge of an unknown wilderness, full of towering trees, desolate desert, and swamp in the dead of night, with only a vague idea drawing me forward. I grope my way through the darkness with little more than a flashlight illuminating the possible path ahead. Sometimes the path is smooth and easy, and I can sail ahead confidently. Other times, I come to a dead-end or a fork and flounder around trying to scan ahead for the best route. And there are, of course, those times when I am sailing along a smooth path and suddenly trip on a hidden root or rock, falling flat on my face.

Still, I carry on, because somewhere out there is the best path that leads to the end of the story. And once I've arrived at the end, I can see where I am and what path I've travelled to get there. I see what story I am telling, despite all its roughness, redundancy, and wrong turns. The whole path is lit up, and I can go back and forth along it, getting rid of dead-ends and irrelevancies, smoothing the path, creating visual interest and surprises, even adding twists to keep it interesting and to keep the traveller guessing what comes next. 

Although, like Donis, I don't rewrite or fix anything while writing the first draft, partly so I don't block my creative momentum but also because until the story is all laid out in rough, I can't be sure what needs fixing or how. But since I write longhand and rewrite once it's on the computer, there is some initial rewriting that occurs while I am transcribing onto the computer. I do transcribe at regular intervals so I don't face the daunting task of typing out 500 pages of scribbled mess all at the end.

Also when writing first draft, I keep a running file on my computer of all the bits that I may have to change, add, or delete during the rewrites. Everything from adjusting characters' backstories to inserting scenes or moving scenes around, changing the weather, etc. Otherwise when writing in this "wing-it" style, I might forget them all. 

It takes many rewrites and partial rewrites to get the story to the best I can make it, and even now, having just sent my latest WIP off to the publisher, I am still rewriting in my head and can think of more improvements to make when it comes back to me.

There is no one way to write a novel. Some writers outline, others hate outlines, some write detailed character backstories, others get to know their characters as the story evolves. Some write longhand to tap into their imagination, while others love the speed and ease of computers. Some keep side files, others post-in notes or index cards. The one rule is that every novel needs multiple rewrites to be its best self.

The importance of community

 Recent posts on Type M have explored the many aspects of being a writer. What we like about it, what we hate, why we do it (hint, it's not for the money), how and why do we research, and how we get people to read it when we're done. As I am currently at the "tearing-my-hair-out phase of a new first draft, I found myself smiling and nodding a lot as I read. Whether we "meet" virtually in the blogsphere, at mystery conferences, library readings, or in a pub, the sharing of experiences with book lovers and fellow writers is one of the surprising delights of this wacky career and one of the main things that keep me going.

I've been a writer all my life because, like so many writers, I feel driven to tell tales. They are always spinning in my head and they clamour to be written. In my younger years, I just dabbled, writing as long as a story appealed to me but abandoning it when it got too hard or I lost interest in it. My childhood desk was stuffed with discarded plays, TV scripts, and novels. Eventually I decided I had to finish something, no matter what, and stuck with a few (very bad) novels until the bitter end. However, once I wrote "The End", I thought I was done. I had no concept of editing, polishing, trying to make the thing better. Into the bottom drawer it went along with the earlier discards, while I was on to another project that sparked my interest.

Since I was very busy with my paying career and my three young children, I didn't take the stories seriously. They were a catharsis and a creative outlet, not something to share publicly.

All this changed when I discovered a community of fellow aspiring crime writers. They're a small group of local Ottawa writers intent on learning the craft and the knowledge base of crime writing. When I walked into my first meeting - a presentation by the local Chief of Detectives - I felt as if I had found my kindred souls. And so it began. The laughter, the networking, the critiquing, and the sharing of ideas and news. Encouraged by their feedback on a couple of short stories, I began to think about the possibility of getting something published. It didn't happen overnight, of course. I had a lot to learn not just about the four pillars of a good story – character, dialogue, plot, and setting – but about the importance of rewriting, rewriting, polishing, and not giving up until the story was the best I could make it. And about the importance of sticking with it even when you hate it, think it's junk, boring, etc. etc. 

All of this I learned not only by practice, practice, practice, but by meeting other writers, and readers too. From this local mystery writers' group, I went on to join Crime Writers of Canada, attend mystery conferences like Bouchercon and Left Coast Crime. Not only do you learn how other writers do the craft and solve the inevitable problems, but you make connections with other book people: readers, bookstore owners, publishers, and librarians. Each personal connection extends your reach, but it also draws you into a community. A community that lifts you up and encourages you when times are grim, shares horror stories, and knows exactly what you're going through. 

Without that, it would be a very lonely job indeed, and I think I might still be stuck at the starting gate.

Letting it rest

Barbara here. For the last two weeks I have been on a family holiday at my cottage and have not done a lick of work on my WIP. But I have found the perfect excuse; I am letting it rest.

Two weeks ago, I proudly wrote THE END on the last page of the first draft of my new Inspector Green novel, titled THE DEVIL TO PAY, and printed all 352 pages off in order to start the first rewrites. This first rewrite is "big picture" stuff. Since I invent the story as I go along, the plot takes many unexpected turns, and the characters change, grow, or disappear, leaving loose ends, plot holes, ghosts, and non-sequiturs - in short, a ragged mess. By the end of the first draft, it's a story but a very rough one. While I'm writing the first draft, I keep a separate file of notes about things to change, add, delete, or enhance, and I use this to help me focus my edits. I also spend time simply daydreaming about the story to tease out the plot tangles, develop crucial subplots, and deepen characters and relationships. This often random mental meandering frees my imagination to take wild flights that hopefully will enrich the story.

One time-honoured way to free the imagination is to get some distance from the story so that you can see it through somewhat "fresh eyes". By the time I get to THE END of the first draft, I've lived with the story and its characters for over half a year. They are very familiar to me, which makes it difficult to think about them in new ways or to see the flaws and contradictions right in front of me. Working with a deadline, it's difficult to get enough time away from the manuscript to really see it through fresh eyes, but even a few weeks away from it and trying not to even think about it can help. Hence my holiday in the cottage sun. 

I'm letting it rest. And as this photo shows, the cottage is the perfect place to do that. At least that's my story.