I’ve heard it said, and I firmly believe, that the ultimate purpose of writing, for the writer, is to get better at it. Not to make the million-dollar sale, not to achieve fame and bestsellerdom (though I’ll cash the checks if and when they come), but to make each new work better than the last. Toward that end, writing a novel is a tremendous learning experience, and Petra has been no exception. But the journey ain’t over yet. I wanted to close out these reflections with some thoughts about what’s ahead.
Obviously, I need some distance from the work. No problem. I have at least one rewrite to do, a small mountain of mss that need resubmitting, and some correspondence to catch up on. The immediate future holds some busywork. I can occupy myself for the next several weeks.
I’m not sure, really, how much time I need away from the novel. Somewhere in the vicinity of a month to two months, I think–although two months sounds like laziness talking. Maybe I’ll split the difference, get started after the 4th of July.
I’m quite curious to see what further process changes are in store for me. After all, I’ve kept my editor brain locked away in a box for four months. He’s bound to be grumpy when I finally let him out. And I did promise him free rein with the rewrite. Will he punish me by being unusually harsh? Who knows? But here are a few things I expect he’s going to be upset about:
Settings.
I usually sweat the setting details, even in a first draft. But this time out, I contented myself with a few basic strokes, rather than allow myself to get bogged down. This was especially true with the first act. I suspect several of my settings aren’t yet distinctive enough. While fixing this will be a chore, it has its rewards. For example, working out these details aids immeasurably in the blocking of scenes.
The Opening.
Even as I was writing it, the opening seemed too slow, too expository. I was casting about at the time, unsure of the novel’s pacing, not yet in stride–and I think it will show.
The Ends of Acts One and Two.
I found myself bogging down at the ends of the first two acts–times when the action should have been picking up. I don’t know how or why that happened, but it did. I suspect that much of the major work of the rewrite will be done in these places.
Trimming the Fat.
Even though this is a short novel, I believe it can be even shorter. I’m not sure where the fat is yet, but the previous two items may be a hint.
Uneven Characters.
I introduced a few characters without a clear idea of how they factored into the story. As a result, I think the reread will reveal some inconsistent action and dialogue from them.
Line Edits.
Ah, this is where my editor brain lives and breathes. Ask anyone who’s ever been critiqued by me. I make no apologies for this; mechanics are every bit as important as strong characterization and gripping plot. It’s also something I think I’m pretty good at. Those of you who have been through one of my crits may take some small comfort in knowing that I’m at least as hard on myself as I am on you.
Still, free rein for my editor brain or no, I think it’s not unreasonable for me to set a deadline for the rewrite. If I can do the first draft in sixteen weeks, surely I can do the second draft in . . . eight weeks? Really? Well, that’s the goal I’ll set myself, anyway. I reserve the right to make adjustments, though, after I reread the thing.
Looking longer term, the goal is to have Petra ready for submission by the end of the year. That means I’ll need to get some feedback on it, and soon. I’m not sure how to go about that at this point. Normally, I don’t let anyone see my first drafts. I’d rather walk out of my house naked. But, as should be abundantly clear by now, I’ve chucked my “normal” out the window. So maybe I’ll look around for some brave souls willing to have a first draft inflicted on them. We’ll see.
Looking even further down the road–I have to wonder how well this new process will translate to short stories, and to other future works. Believe me, I realize the short story and the novel are two different animals. But considering how many more settings you have to describe in a novel, the greater breadth and depth of characters, and the comparative levels of complexity involved, I gotta figure I can churn out short story first drafts faster, too.
And what about future novels? Can I do this again?
Ah, but I get ahead of myself. I’m still in the middle of this experiment. I’ve just reached a way station, that’s all. Pardon me while I stretch my legs for a bit, get a drink of water, and maybe glance around at the scenery.
And then get back in the car, and drive on.
