Yesterday, I finished my revisions on Fall Semester, which covers about 50-60% of the novel. In MS Word, the page count, double-spaced, came out to 325 pages. I realize this is a decent size for an entire book, and in fact, rather long for a Y.A. book.
So my brother remarks on how 600-650 pages would be really long for a first-timer, Y.A. novel. And he's not wrong. This, of course, led him to bring up the topic of editors and how the editor would, and I quote, "rape the shit out of it."
Again, he's not wrong. From the point I hit 100 pages, I knew that this book was going to be a doorstopper. I knew it. I also knew it probably wouldn't be the first book I published. None of this bothered me. I had long since braced for it.
And then my brother (whom I would like to preface this by saying is a very cool, very intelligent guy) made a suggestion that blew right past stupid and crash-landed deep within the boundaries of offensive. He asked if perhaps I might consider just splitting the book in half and publishing Fall Semester as its own novel.
Now, most people would be hard-pressed to see what's so offensive about that suggestion, and I can see why. After all, it was offered in kindness, the proposal of an alternate strategy for the purpose of helping to ensure my success. I recognize that and all the love that motivated it. That doesn't change what else was behind that suggestion, so allow me to spell it out to all the non-writers out there.
By asking if I would consider this option, my brother must first have entertained the idea that it was even possible. Now, let's take a closer look at the reasoning behind that. As any high school student should be able to tell you (though I can't guarantee this, given the current state of the American educational system), every story has a structure, in its most primal form, beginning, middle, and end. Even in non-linear storytelling, the part you see at the end, regardless of where it comes in the chronology, is at the end for a reason. It's the big reveal or that new context that suddenly puts everything into perspective. It's what the story builds up to. Hence, if you split a story in the middle, you don't get the end. You get half the story and a major case of narrative blueballs.
Right about now, someone out there will be wondering where cliffhangers fit into all this. That's a whole other conversation, and all I will say on the matter is that cliffhangers are a certain type of ending; unresolved, but still an ending. After a cliffhanger, if you're going, "Damn that was a kick-ass story and I'm dying to know what happens next," that is the correct response. If your reaction is more along the lines of, "Wait... what, what... whoa whoa whoa... that's it?" then the writer failed.
So, getting back on track here, the suggestion of splitting the story implies that ending isn't important, that the climax of the story does not stand out enough from the rest of the narrative to be of any immediate value to the reader and that he or she would be just as satisfied stopping halfway through as they would getting to the end. So, what this sentiment basically implies is that my story has no real discernible structure and has been crafted poorly. Even allowing the benefit of the doubt that, having knowledge that this book was part of a series, it was assumed that the greater story could just be broken up in smaller installments, it still ignores the fact that I chose where each installment began and ended for several specific reasons. It assumes the divisions were arbitrary. They weren't.
But there's something more insidious about all this, something I'm sure my brother wasn't even aware of on a conscious level, and that's the immediate assumption that Y.A. books are fluff, that they're not real literature; that you can half-ass it and everything will be fine.
See, there's an arrogance most people acquire pretty much the moment they graduate high school. It is the immediate distancing of one's self from one's own adolescence. In the same kind of mad dash to be taken seriously that is ironically exhibited by teenagers, post-adolescents jump straight into the same condescension and belittlement that drove them crazy for six solid years. Teenagers are immediately dismissed as stupid, foolish, obnoxious, and unable to contribute any thoughts or ideas of any kind of value. The same issues and trials that caused these people genuine emotional distress when they were kids, the traumas that shaped the adults they became, are suddenly jeered at as bullshit kid problems, little stuff, unimportant, things you can in good conscience laugh at someone for actually caring about. The fact that, as teenagers, we were privy to real adult horrors without yet having developed the coping mechanisms to deal with them is promptly forgotten. It's basically the equivalent of a professional bodybuilder dropping a 200 pound weight, watching some 98-pound newbie who just got a gym membership catch it and dislocate his shoulder, and then calling him a big baby for crying out. It doesn't matter how easily the bodybuilder could lift that weight. The pain and damage it caused the newbie is just as real.
As such, people tend to assume that any book written for teenagers or even just about them is going to be 200+ pages of kids whining about whom they want to date, how hard their homework is, and how unfair their parents are. The idea that these characters are psychologically complex and living through legitimate hardships that would traumatize a person of any age is never even considered, nor is the possibility that the book might actually be about something. It's just assumed that it's an episode of Dawson's Creek in prose. And if you think that's all a book is, then sure, it doesn't really matter how long it is, and you can break it up anywhere, because it's all just more of the same. But let me ask you this.
If you picked up a mystery novel targeted at an adult audience, and the central mystery weren't solved by the end, would you or would you not consider that book a let-down and a waste of your time? I rest my case.
Sunday, July 1, 2012
Wednesday, May 2, 2012
Update on The Preppy Suicides: Fall Semester v.4.0
Yes, 4.0. Writing is rewriting, people. Which brings me to today's topic. Rewriting can be a lot of things, but what it usually ends up being is tedious, because whatever problem there is with something you've written is often so subtle and so small, it requires scrutinizing the work over and over and fuckin' OVER again, until it starts to lose its meaning like a word you've said out loud too many times in the same minute.
This is one of the reasons I dread rewrites. Yes, it's because I hate killing my darlings (if I didn't, they wouldn't be very darling), but it's more than that. I have this fear that I'm going to get so bored by reading the same thing over and over that I'll start to gloss over it and miss what it is I need to fix or I'll let myself slide because I'm not really committing to the task at hand... since I just want it to be over. I eventually come back and do things right, but there usually comes a point where I just have to step back and give it some time. There is, of course, a flipside to this, and that's reviewing passages that simply never go stale no matter how many times I read them. When you read something you've written and enjoy it so much it feels like someone else wrote it, that shit is gold. When you can make yourself laugh with a one-liner or wince with a catty burn every time you read it, it doesn't get any better than that, folks.
Well, after the stuff I discussed two posts ago, the knowledge that I had to sort of breakdown the first semester and rearrange some things, I looked at the task ahead of me and found it rather daunting. It meant rewriting some early chapters, and the idea of revisiting that material, of having to start the story again was absolutely dreadful, because nothing is harder than beginnings. A lot of people say that endings are the hardest, but they never are for me. If you know what your story is really about, the ending is just a matter of two things, logic and patience: logic to help you realize what would be the most natural and fulfilling conclusion to everything that's come before it, and patience for that idea to come to you, because it isn't always immediately obvious.
No, I have trouble with beginnings, because by the ending, you've got your audience. Beginnings are where you not only have to hook that audience, but set your stage and put your story in motion, and they are thus very delicate creatures. How much exposition do you drop in? How much action? How much dialogue? Where is the starting point? What is prologue and should be referred to in flashback? It's a balancing act, and going back to that beginning and rewriting it, especially since certain points of view were changing due to chapter rearrangement, was going to be a massive job.
And it was.
But after I got out of those woods (it only took a week and a half, to my surprise), I found myself staring down the barrel of the rest of the semester. It was late, I was tired, and I knew it was not the time to go over dialogue or action. My brain just wasn't tuned up nearly enough to handle that. But a puzzle? A puzzle I could do, so I started fiddling with the continuity, figuring out what sequence the events had to come in, really getting down to the pacing and emotional rhythm of the content, and...
Holy... fucking... shit.
Somewhere around 5:15 AM, I was done. I knew there were a few chapters (mostly Patrick stuff, as his story, both the main mystery and his character arc, were getting altered the most) that I'd have to just sort of drop in as I went along. All in all, I think it'll add about three chapters to my current outline of Fall Semester, but for the most part, I had it. And it looked good. It looked tight. It put all the events into a fresh new context and it really feels like they were initially jumbled out of the right sequence and this version is the way things were supposed to be all along. I practically slapped myself in the head, thinking, how could I have not seen this before? How did I not have it like this from the beginning?! But that's rewriting. And the most amazing thing?
These thirty or so chapters ahead of me... I'm not dreading rewriting them. I'm not intimidated, I'm not reluctant, I'm not resigned to the task, and I'm not pissed that this is yet another setback from finishing my first complete draft. You know what I am?
I'm excited. Honestly, seriously, and indescribably excited. About rewriting. I simply cannot wait to get to work on these rewrites, and that is something I never in a million years thought I would say.
This is one of the reasons I dread rewrites. Yes, it's because I hate killing my darlings (if I didn't, they wouldn't be very darling), but it's more than that. I have this fear that I'm going to get so bored by reading the same thing over and over that I'll start to gloss over it and miss what it is I need to fix or I'll let myself slide because I'm not really committing to the task at hand... since I just want it to be over. I eventually come back and do things right, but there usually comes a point where I just have to step back and give it some time. There is, of course, a flipside to this, and that's reviewing passages that simply never go stale no matter how many times I read them. When you read something you've written and enjoy it so much it feels like someone else wrote it, that shit is gold. When you can make yourself laugh with a one-liner or wince with a catty burn every time you read it, it doesn't get any better than that, folks.
Well, after the stuff I discussed two posts ago, the knowledge that I had to sort of breakdown the first semester and rearrange some things, I looked at the task ahead of me and found it rather daunting. It meant rewriting some early chapters, and the idea of revisiting that material, of having to start the story again was absolutely dreadful, because nothing is harder than beginnings. A lot of people say that endings are the hardest, but they never are for me. If you know what your story is really about, the ending is just a matter of two things, logic and patience: logic to help you realize what would be the most natural and fulfilling conclusion to everything that's come before it, and patience for that idea to come to you, because it isn't always immediately obvious.
No, I have trouble with beginnings, because by the ending, you've got your audience. Beginnings are where you not only have to hook that audience, but set your stage and put your story in motion, and they are thus very delicate creatures. How much exposition do you drop in? How much action? How much dialogue? Where is the starting point? What is prologue and should be referred to in flashback? It's a balancing act, and going back to that beginning and rewriting it, especially since certain points of view were changing due to chapter rearrangement, was going to be a massive job.
And it was.
But after I got out of those woods (it only took a week and a half, to my surprise), I found myself staring down the barrel of the rest of the semester. It was late, I was tired, and I knew it was not the time to go over dialogue or action. My brain just wasn't tuned up nearly enough to handle that. But a puzzle? A puzzle I could do, so I started fiddling with the continuity, figuring out what sequence the events had to come in, really getting down to the pacing and emotional rhythm of the content, and...
Holy... fucking... shit.
Somewhere around 5:15 AM, I was done. I knew there were a few chapters (mostly Patrick stuff, as his story, both the main mystery and his character arc, were getting altered the most) that I'd have to just sort of drop in as I went along. All in all, I think it'll add about three chapters to my current outline of Fall Semester, but for the most part, I had it. And it looked good. It looked tight. It put all the events into a fresh new context and it really feels like they were initially jumbled out of the right sequence and this version is the way things were supposed to be all along. I practically slapped myself in the head, thinking, how could I have not seen this before? How did I not have it like this from the beginning?! But that's rewriting. And the most amazing thing?
These thirty or so chapters ahead of me... I'm not dreading rewriting them. I'm not intimidated, I'm not reluctant, I'm not resigned to the task, and I'm not pissed that this is yet another setback from finishing my first complete draft. You know what I am?
I'm excited. Honestly, seriously, and indescribably excited. About rewriting. I simply cannot wait to get to work on these rewrites, and that is something I never in a million years thought I would say.
Friday, April 20, 2012
The Preppy Suicides: Borrowed Time
Rarely is it that postponing a character death actually improves a story. It's rare... but it happens.
I've been going over my outline for The Preppy Suicides, looking at all the clues and plot points and becoming very upset that they all have just a little too much momentum. Now, momentum is a good thing, but I have reasons, and not arbitrary ones, that each volume of The Crossroads Chronicles has to span a school year. It's not a conceit I yoinked from Harry Potter or a vestige of when I'd planned to do this series as a TV show. There are legit reasons for it. And yet, there are only so many clues, only so many roads I can go down without getting redundant and adding filler.
And then I realized that a lot of that momentum had to do with a character death that occurs rather early on in the story, one in which the characters have a very personal stake. It's their entire purpose, and for them to dally around after this character has died would seriously leach credibility from the idea that this was their friend, that his death had a profound effect on them. Then, however, I realized...
His isn't the only death, and it isn't the first. If the first death piques their curiosity and gets them to start asking questions, they could begin their investigation without the immediate personal stake of the second death, and certain events put in motion by the second death could also be held off on. The rising action starts, but the story has room to breathe, to grow.
And then, when no one is looking... BAM! Death number two makes it personal. Death number two changes the game. It's the cue ball that sends every other ball on the table bouncing off the sides. This, of course, also has the added bonus of spending more time with the character who was supposed to die sooner. There is seriously no bad to this decision. Fo' shizzle!
Well, time to roll up my sleeves and get restructuring!
Beta readers, if you comment here, DO NOT NAME NAMES.
I've been going over my outline for The Preppy Suicides, looking at all the clues and plot points and becoming very upset that they all have just a little too much momentum. Now, momentum is a good thing, but I have reasons, and not arbitrary ones, that each volume of The Crossroads Chronicles has to span a school year. It's not a conceit I yoinked from Harry Potter or a vestige of when I'd planned to do this series as a TV show. There are legit reasons for it. And yet, there are only so many clues, only so many roads I can go down without getting redundant and adding filler.
And then I realized that a lot of that momentum had to do with a character death that occurs rather early on in the story, one in which the characters have a very personal stake. It's their entire purpose, and for them to dally around after this character has died would seriously leach credibility from the idea that this was their friend, that his death had a profound effect on them. Then, however, I realized...
His isn't the only death, and it isn't the first. If the first death piques their curiosity and gets them to start asking questions, they could begin their investigation without the immediate personal stake of the second death, and certain events put in motion by the second death could also be held off on. The rising action starts, but the story has room to breathe, to grow.
And then, when no one is looking... BAM! Death number two makes it personal. Death number two changes the game. It's the cue ball that sends every other ball on the table bouncing off the sides. This, of course, also has the added bonus of spending more time with the character who was supposed to die sooner. There is seriously no bad to this decision. Fo' shizzle!
Well, time to roll up my sleeves and get restructuring!
Beta readers, if you comment here, DO NOT NAME NAMES.
Sunday, April 15, 2012
The Preppy Suicides: Midpoint Review
I have just passed January in story time, which means I've completed the first semester, which in turn means I'm halfway through the story.
As I began with the first February chapter, I realized that there were only so many plot points left before I had to just cut to the climax or let my characters just look lazy or stupid. The thing is, there are certain characters whose arcs have not yet brought them to where they would need to be for that to happen, and I find myself with a problem: the plot is getting ahead of both the calendar and the characters.
As I began with the first February chapter, I realized that there were only so many plot points left before I had to just cut to the climax or let my characters just look lazy or stupid. The thing is, there are certain characters whose arcs have not yet brought them to where they would need to be for that to happen, and I find myself with a problem: the plot is getting ahead of both the calendar and the characters.
I've also run into the problem of not being sure who knows what at this point, which clues have been discovered and which connections have been made. Being the omniscient creator, it can be easy for me to lose track of which characters know what and when.
That being the case, I have decided that this is as good a time as any to go over the story so far, chapter by chapter, and document all the crucial exposition delivered up until this point so that I can get a better gauge of how to pace everything. This will not doubt be a rather tedious process, but better now than never.
For the record, some of the character sub-plots (which very directly influence the central mystery plot) have recently hit certain scenes that I am incredibly proud of. The last chapter I wrote seriously changes the game of not only this book, but the entire series, and it featured a scene so shocking and tragic (in the classic sense of tragedy, not the contemporary) that it just makes your stomach lurch. Both the story and the character in question just take a sharp turn and start everything spinning on a whole new axis, and I can't wait to pick up the story from where I left it.
More news to come soon!
Thursday, March 29, 2012
What Hurts The Most
Over the last two days, having spent some time away from the novel, I've really enjoyed the down time. I've been catching up on my reading, and that's great. I've also been looking forward to the material I'm about to cover. However, there's this phenomenon that occurs when I write.
I'm a big picture kind of guy. I've planned this story out as five books and have created roughly 150 years of backstory for it. I've mapped out character arcs and twists and turns: all of it. But I've noticed, as with other projects I've worked on, there's a world of difference between planning stuff and writing it out. I recently killed a character whom I'd been planning to kill since I was a teenager. I'd had more than enough time to prepare for it, and still when it happened, I actually had to shut my laptop and grieve for a day or two before continuing to the next scene.
A few days ago, as I was writing a scene featuring a character who is easily one of the most dynamic in the series, I visualized a moment from the final book, a moment that, if not his final scene, would be very close to the end. I've always known how his character would end, but never had any real specifics. Finally, sitting there, it came to me. A confession and a revelation, a cry for help, just four words: "I got so lost." I don't often make myself cry, but knowing the five books of story behind that statement, I had to wipe my eyes. It made me really think about the places I'm about to take this story emotionally, places I might not be prepared to handle.
I'm specifically thinking of a character who is unabashedly my favorite, a character who is carrying a lot more darkness than anyone will suspect. I constructed him this way, quite deliberately I might add. His story is meant to be painful and traumatic and disturbing, but in unleashing that upon my readers, I've realized I'll first have to unleash that on myself, and it's a little scary, because it taps into feelings I realize I have avoided dealing with for a very long time."
I am honestly terrified of going there, so, of course, there is this gentle voice, a ghost in my head taking my hand and saying, "That's how you know you have to."
And it's right. I do. Dammit.
I'm a big picture kind of guy. I've planned this story out as five books and have created roughly 150 years of backstory for it. I've mapped out character arcs and twists and turns: all of it. But I've noticed, as with other projects I've worked on, there's a world of difference between planning stuff and writing it out. I recently killed a character whom I'd been planning to kill since I was a teenager. I'd had more than enough time to prepare for it, and still when it happened, I actually had to shut my laptop and grieve for a day or two before continuing to the next scene.
A few days ago, as I was writing a scene featuring a character who is easily one of the most dynamic in the series, I visualized a moment from the final book, a moment that, if not his final scene, would be very close to the end. I've always known how his character would end, but never had any real specifics. Finally, sitting there, it came to me. A confession and a revelation, a cry for help, just four words: "I got so lost." I don't often make myself cry, but knowing the five books of story behind that statement, I had to wipe my eyes. It made me really think about the places I'm about to take this story emotionally, places I might not be prepared to handle.
I'm specifically thinking of a character who is unabashedly my favorite, a character who is carrying a lot more darkness than anyone will suspect. I constructed him this way, quite deliberately I might add. His story is meant to be painful and traumatic and disturbing, but in unleashing that upon my readers, I've realized I'll first have to unleash that on myself, and it's a little scary, because it taps into feelings I realize I have avoided dealing with for a very long time."
I am honestly terrified of going there, so, of course, there is this gentle voice, a ghost in my head taking my hand and saying, "That's how you know you have to."
And it's right. I do. Dammit.
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
Update #2 on The Preppy Suicides
Today I completed the second block of my novel, which covers everything in the school year from Halloween to Christmas. I am rather pleased and a little shocked that I blew through all that material in just a little under five weeks. It's certainly encouraging.
I am feeling a little relieved now that I'm past the "romance cluster," not because I don't love me some romance, just because I have concerns about whether or not it's too much of a distraction from the story in progress. I know the significance these relationships will play in the greater arc of the novel, but I might be too close to the work to see it with an objective eye. I suppose my beta readers will let me know.
I'll be spending the next few days polishing those chapters up for said beta readers, and then will move onto the third block, which will cover January and February, and I'm looking forward to it, because this is the place where the shit seriously hits the fan. This is where the story starts to take some serious twists and turns and characters start to make some very interesting (if not wise) choices.
I cannot fucking wait.
Go me! First draft is 40% complete!
I am feeling a little relieved now that I'm past the "romance cluster," not because I don't love me some romance, just because I have concerns about whether or not it's too much of a distraction from the story in progress. I know the significance these relationships will play in the greater arc of the novel, but I might be too close to the work to see it with an objective eye. I suppose my beta readers will let me know.
I'll be spending the next few days polishing those chapters up for said beta readers, and then will move onto the third block, which will cover January and February, and I'm looking forward to it, because this is the place where the shit seriously hits the fan. This is where the story starts to take some serious twists and turns and characters start to make some very interesting (if not wise) choices.
I cannot fucking wait.
Go me! First draft is 40% complete!
Thursday, March 8, 2012
The Re-writer's Horizon
I've come to quite the milestone in writing The Preppy Suicides. Several months ago, I realized that I needed to overhaul the structure of what I'd written so far. There were far too many chapters of pure exposition up front, and I still hadn't reached the major character death that kicks the story into gear. I realized that not only did I have to move that death up, that I could do it easily and believably, given the schedule of events. This was undoubtedly for the best. That didn't mean it didn't present several problems.
First of all, by jumbling the sequence of events, certain characters would have to be lifted from chapters in which they had initially appeared. Second, there were entire sequences that would have to be hacked, slashed, and stitched back together. There were some actions, lines, even entire conversations that I would have to find new homes for, and some that would simply have no place in this new version. It wasn't easy.
For the most part, however, it worked out. Those early chapters were cannibalized, all essential exposition redistributed throughout the story, and the creation of a prologue specifically devoted to certain characters and concepts upon which the entire story would be built was a godsend. Painful at times, tedious at others, I knew I had made the right decision, and the book was all the better for it. Along the way, I invented new chapters, completely new material that fit in the sequence though now chronologically preceding some material I'd already written.
And now I come to a milestone: the last chapter from my previous work. It's a favorite of mine, one that even I have labeled as self-indulgent, and it is. It's important to the plot and everything, but that's not why I love it. I had thought when I reached this point, I'd be exhilarated to revisit this material, give it a face lift, and then move on to terra incognita. Rereading it, however, has left me a little put out. First of all, pieces of this chapter had been lifted and transplanted to new chapters that preceded it. Other scenes no longer made sense within the new sequence and had to be scrapped entirely. With all that material cut, the seams were rather ragged in a few too many places, and I came to the realization that the chapter would need to be rewritten from top to bottom.
I find this very intimidating for the simple reason that I neither want to nor need to scrap everything, which means that for this chapter to not look like a huge, stinking pile of crap, I'm going to need to put at least twice the work and love into it that I normally would, which is not to say it isn't going to be incredibly rewarding, but that's why they call it the agony and the ecstasy of creation.
I'm not ready. Not yet. I've been listening to mood music all day and I've been coming up empty. This one is going to take a lot out of me, especially after writing two back-to-back chapters of full-on plot progression. I just need to let it marinate and come to me, and that might take a while. They say that most of writing is rewriting, and it's true. But why, might you be asking, is this chapter such a milestone?
Because after I'm done with it, there's nothing but open road ahead. This is the last of the chapters I'm retreading, and once I'm done with it, I'll be writing nothing but new material. No looking back over earlier drafts and cutting and pasting between Word files (at least not until my next draft), no double-checking what appears where in which version. No, after this one is in the can, it's all unexplored terrain, and standing on the re-writer's horizon feels pretty damn good.
But I can't force this. You don't get to just skip a boss fight. You have to stock up on arrows, bombs, and potions and keep at it until you can finally slay the beast. I'm exhausted, and it's not coming to me now, and if I want to put all the love and care into this chapter that it deserves, I have to wait for my brain to let me know when it's ready to take this task on. Until then, all I can do is dream happily of what lies beyond.
First of all, by jumbling the sequence of events, certain characters would have to be lifted from chapters in which they had initially appeared. Second, there were entire sequences that would have to be hacked, slashed, and stitched back together. There were some actions, lines, even entire conversations that I would have to find new homes for, and some that would simply have no place in this new version. It wasn't easy.
For the most part, however, it worked out. Those early chapters were cannibalized, all essential exposition redistributed throughout the story, and the creation of a prologue specifically devoted to certain characters and concepts upon which the entire story would be built was a godsend. Painful at times, tedious at others, I knew I had made the right decision, and the book was all the better for it. Along the way, I invented new chapters, completely new material that fit in the sequence though now chronologically preceding some material I'd already written.
And now I come to a milestone: the last chapter from my previous work. It's a favorite of mine, one that even I have labeled as self-indulgent, and it is. It's important to the plot and everything, but that's not why I love it. I had thought when I reached this point, I'd be exhilarated to revisit this material, give it a face lift, and then move on to terra incognita. Rereading it, however, has left me a little put out. First of all, pieces of this chapter had been lifted and transplanted to new chapters that preceded it. Other scenes no longer made sense within the new sequence and had to be scrapped entirely. With all that material cut, the seams were rather ragged in a few too many places, and I came to the realization that the chapter would need to be rewritten from top to bottom.
I find this very intimidating for the simple reason that I neither want to nor need to scrap everything, which means that for this chapter to not look like a huge, stinking pile of crap, I'm going to need to put at least twice the work and love into it that I normally would, which is not to say it isn't going to be incredibly rewarding, but that's why they call it the agony and the ecstasy of creation.
I'm not ready. Not yet. I've been listening to mood music all day and I've been coming up empty. This one is going to take a lot out of me, especially after writing two back-to-back chapters of full-on plot progression. I just need to let it marinate and come to me, and that might take a while. They say that most of writing is rewriting, and it's true. But why, might you be asking, is this chapter such a milestone?
Because after I'm done with it, there's nothing but open road ahead. This is the last of the chapters I'm retreading, and once I'm done with it, I'll be writing nothing but new material. No looking back over earlier drafts and cutting and pasting between Word files (at least not until my next draft), no double-checking what appears where in which version. No, after this one is in the can, it's all unexplored terrain, and standing on the re-writer's horizon feels pretty damn good.
But I can't force this. You don't get to just skip a boss fight. You have to stock up on arrows, bombs, and potions and keep at it until you can finally slay the beast. I'm exhausted, and it's not coming to me now, and if I want to put all the love and care into this chapter that it deserves, I have to wait for my brain to let me know when it's ready to take this task on. Until then, all I can do is dream happily of what lies beyond.
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
Update on The Preppy Suicides
Well, I've hit a milestone, folks. I've finally killed a character that's been rambling around in my head for the last fifteen years, a character who is only fourteen years old. That's right, the character has now existed in my head for longer than he has been alive in-universe.
So, he is now dead, which means... the story is finally heating up. The objective has been stated, the alliance forged, the quest begun. I am very excited and also feel very free. See, a while back, I decided that I wouldn't try to fit the novel all onto one Word file, and for several reasons. One, I need some kind of incremental feeling of accomplishment. It probably comes from all my years thinking in TV terms and writing TV scripts. So, being able to sit back after a block of chapters, say "I did it!" and start a fresh document goes a long way toward motivating me to continue. Two, I didn't want to have to scroll through an entire novel every time I opened the file to work. Originally, I had been going chapter for chapter, but that just seemed silly, so I decided I'd break it down based on story time. This leads us to the third reason: structure.
Seeing as the story follows the events of a school year, and the standard school year is ten months, I figured a section covering every two months would work out well. It also broke things down into a five-act structure, a narrative framework I'm rather fond of and comfortable with. What I didn't realize was how well it would enable me to pace the story. Now, the novel won't actually be split into these different sections; they'll just run from one to the next. No, these divisions are only for my own creative process. And to keep my beta readers from killing me.
Part 1 (September to October) introduces the characters and the setting. There are ultimately seven characters in the story from whose points of view chapters are written, though one of them ceases to be a point of view character upon, you know, dying. The seventh character's point of view doesn't premiere until after this loss, so there are really only ever six point of view characters at one time. Part 1 sets up these characters, their motivations, and their relationships.
Part 2 (November to December) will see the story begin to take shape, and that's what I find really exciting. Starting in Part 2, the characters start moving into new positions, taking on new roles. Our villain will put on his black hat, and our heroes will start banding together. This is where we up the drama, the fear, the intrigue, and yes, even a little romance. But in the new year... in the new year, the shit will hit the fan.
Right now, I've mapped out Part 2, and though it could very well change somewhere along the way, it seems like it will consist of eleven chapters, as opposed to Part 1's fourteen (including the prologue). It also gives me a great deal of satisfaction that bulk of those chapters will go to characters we didn't see much of in Part 1. That's the thing about an ensemble, you rotate people in and out as you need them, and just because Patrick is the main character, it doesn't mean he needs to be in the limelight all the time.
So, raise a glass with me. I'm 1/5 of the way through my novel, and right now, it's looking pretty fucking nifty.
So, he is now dead, which means... the story is finally heating up. The objective has been stated, the alliance forged, the quest begun. I am very excited and also feel very free. See, a while back, I decided that I wouldn't try to fit the novel all onto one Word file, and for several reasons. One, I need some kind of incremental feeling of accomplishment. It probably comes from all my years thinking in TV terms and writing TV scripts. So, being able to sit back after a block of chapters, say "I did it!" and start a fresh document goes a long way toward motivating me to continue. Two, I didn't want to have to scroll through an entire novel every time I opened the file to work. Originally, I had been going chapter for chapter, but that just seemed silly, so I decided I'd break it down based on story time. This leads us to the third reason: structure.
Seeing as the story follows the events of a school year, and the standard school year is ten months, I figured a section covering every two months would work out well. It also broke things down into a five-act structure, a narrative framework I'm rather fond of and comfortable with. What I didn't realize was how well it would enable me to pace the story. Now, the novel won't actually be split into these different sections; they'll just run from one to the next. No, these divisions are only for my own creative process. And to keep my beta readers from killing me.
Part 1 (September to October) introduces the characters and the setting. There are ultimately seven characters in the story from whose points of view chapters are written, though one of them ceases to be a point of view character upon, you know, dying. The seventh character's point of view doesn't premiere until after this loss, so there are really only ever six point of view characters at one time. Part 1 sets up these characters, their motivations, and their relationships.
Part 2 (November to December) will see the story begin to take shape, and that's what I find really exciting. Starting in Part 2, the characters start moving into new positions, taking on new roles. Our villain will put on his black hat, and our heroes will start banding together. This is where we up the drama, the fear, the intrigue, and yes, even a little romance. But in the new year... in the new year, the shit will hit the fan.
Right now, I've mapped out Part 2, and though it could very well change somewhere along the way, it seems like it will consist of eleven chapters, as opposed to Part 1's fourteen (including the prologue). It also gives me a great deal of satisfaction that bulk of those chapters will go to characters we didn't see much of in Part 1. That's the thing about an ensemble, you rotate people in and out as you need them, and just because Patrick is the main character, it doesn't mean he needs to be in the limelight all the time.
So, raise a glass with me. I'm 1/5 of the way through my novel, and right now, it's looking pretty fucking nifty.
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