Thanks to The Ferrett, I’ve received a most insightful critique. Thanks!
The critique leads me in a circle, back to something I have realized about my work before. There’s an idea that writers should put their work away, and then return to it to make it better, substantially changing the piece. Time gives writers like this new insight. Some writers discover that they have to write a zero draft, and most of that draft is unusable, as the book becomes something else entirely in the rewriting. That’s me when I’m writing my best work.
I realized this for the first time when I was working on Sister Night, Sister Moon. I originally wrote the novella 4 years before it was published. At that time, it was cliche, too obvious, and trite. I rewrote it about three years later, and it became this other thing. The second draft could not have happened without the first draft. Before I wrote the second draft, I mistook the first draft for the final draft. It’s a mistake I make often.
I found out Substance of Shadows had the same problem when I went to Viable Paradise. All of the critiques indicated that there was a lot of good in the manuscript, but it could be so much more. I could see how I needed to dig in, and it would become something very different, much better. All I had to do to get to this point was to wait about 7 years. I was still circulating a version of the first draft, more or less, with artifice. Pretty prose didn’t solve its problems.
Mark Twain’s Daughter was written quickly, and is full of beautiful prose, but there’s a deeper level to the story that could be subtle and psychological. I wrote it last year and sent out the polished first draft write away. It’s been bothering me lately. I knew it wasn’t working, and Ferrett gave voice to what I hadn’t been able to.
I’ll admit there have been exceptions to this writing process. There’s Oliver Toddle. It was weird. It came right out of that subconscious place, where my best stuff comes from. Hulk Hercules was helped out because it was funny and there was a template to the plot.
The overall record indicates time and distance are essential for me. I am both encouraged and discouraged.
There are deadlines for working writers, and I’m not sure that’s how I’m set up to work best. Can I write a book in a year or even a story in a year that reaches its potential?
Maybe I should start thinking in longer terms. Maybe I need to have a minimum time I put a work away for. Maybe I need to start thinking about debut books down the line, rather than in the near future.
Maybe I shouldn’t worry about this, and maybe I should just write. I’m not satisfied with what I’m doing, sending out decorated stories that aren’t ripe.
This could just be for today. This could be because the book I’m writing now is all about artifice and little about what’s underneath, because I haven’t found the underneath yet. Most likely, this entry is because I’m an artist, and this is what we do. I haven’t been whiny for a while.
I’m going back to work. I don’t know what’s going to happen next. I do know I’m grateful for a chance to reflect. Like every other writer, I wish I could get it right the first time. I’d feel more comfortable spending less time going through the motions.
Catherine
I love this post, because this is something I’ve struggled with. I have a terrible problem with my stories because a) I want them to be perfect right away, and obviously that isn’t going to happen and b) sometimes I mistake polishing the words for revising the story. I can string all sorts of pretty words together, but if the structure of the story isn’t strong enough all the knots unravel and those pretty words might as well be lost beads.
But I keep plugging away… 😛