Revision Archives - Page 8 of 10

Using the Writing the Breakout Novel Workbook

May 10, 2012 By Kerry Gans Leave a Comment

I’m currently about 2 revisions into one of my middle grade books. It’s about this time, when I know my characters and have worked out the kinks in my plot, that I turn to Donald Maass’ Writing the Breakout Novel Workbook. This is only the second time I have used it, and I am having a heck of a lot of fun with it!

The workbook forces me to look at my novel from different perspectives. It can help pinpoint problems I didn’t know you had, and point out my strengths as well. I thought I knew my characters well? Think again. Thought my plot was as strong as could be? Think again. Using the workbook is humbling, frustrating—and exciting!

It’s humbling because I find out how much about my novel I didn’t know. Because it shows me how much I have to learn about the craft of writing. I will admit that there are a few chapters where I simply do not know how to do what he is asking. I understand what he wants—I can clearly see it in the examples he uses. But I have no idea how to find appropriate moments in my own work, and even if I could locate them, I wouldn’t know how to do what he suggests. But I will learn.

Mostly, I find using the book exciting! It stirs the creative pot and sets it boiling. I start seeing the book with different eyes, and my brain begins making all sorts of new connections. I know immediately that most of the new ideas bubbling up are better than what I have, will strengthen what I have, and will elevate the end product.

So where’s the frustrating, you ask? I end up with SO MANY new ideas! Volume of ideas is not bad, mind you. It is precisely these new ideas that make using the book so exciting. The problem comes when I look at all the new ideas and contemplate putting them into practice. It’s not the doing that I find daunting—it’s finding the TIME for doing this major revision.

Like many writers, Time is a four-letter word for me. When I look at the amount of revising I will need to do on this book, I don’t see how I’m going to get it all done before my toddler graduates high school. I despair sometimes that I will be the first 90-year-old debut middle grade author in history.

But then I gather myself. I remind myself that even though I have 6 pages of typed notes and a copybook with even more hand written, all I need to do is focus on one change at a time. Do one thing at a time and eventually I will see the end of the road. I have done it before, I can do it now.

By cutting that daunting revision down to size, the despair lifts, and I am left with the excitement I started with. New ideas, new connections, new depth…

I can’t wait to dive in!

Do you use the Breakout Novel Workbook–or a similar book? Has it helped you?

Reading Your Work Cold

April 26, 2012 By Kerry Gans 3 Comments

The Philadelphia Writer’s Conference is coming up in June. I’ve already registered to go, and am in the process of gathering the submissions for the critiques and contests. What’s been interesting is my reaction to reading the excerpts I am preparing to send.

Before I get to that, let me dump a little backstory in here.

I have a toddler. She takes up most of my time. For a while I tried to cycle my writing projects, trying to work on all of them at once. But that just made me feel like I wasn’t accomplishing anything, because I never got to the end of anything. So I decided for the sake of my sanity to focus on one project at a time.

The project I have been working on is a middle grade dystopian steampunk mashup. It will come as no surprise that this is one of the works I am sending in to the conference. I have gathered notes from beta readers and crit partners, and reworked the first 2500 words thoroughly. Then I got more feedback from my crit partners and reworked it again. The opening is significantly better than it was, and I can’t wait to get to work on the rest of the book to bring it up to the same level.

The second excerpt I am sending in is a YA novel—I’m not sure if it would be called a fantasy or a paranormal for genre purposes. The girl’s got supernatural abilities (paranormal) but they come via her father, who is a Greek god (fantasy). So take your pick.

I haven’t worked on this story for many months, so I came to it with very fresh eyes. And I was pleasantly surprised—mostly because I had made changes to the story that I had forgotten I had made. The edits I had made definitely improved the story, and I found myself excited by it in a way I hadn’t been last time I worked on it.

We always hear the advice to put a work aside for a time and come back to it fresh. Usually, this advice is intended to allow you to see the errors and mistakes you’ve made. We rarely hear about the flip side of that coin: Coming to it fresh also allows you to see the strengths of what you have written.

My YA wasn’t perfect, by any means—my crit partners still had some suggestions. But it was so much stronger than what I had remembered having, that I found myself thinking, “This is good—almost like a professional wrote it.”

When I find myself thinking that, I know I’m on the right track.

So if you have the luxury of time, put your work aside before doing a final edit. And when you do come back to it fresh, don’t just focus on what’s wrong. Allow yourself to see and revel in what you’ve done well.

Enjoying those gems in your writing will energize you to bring your A-game to the final edit, and that passion will make your words shine.

When Should You Care About Your Audience?

March 15, 2012 By Kerry Gans 2 Comments

I attended a workshop given by actor/author Keith Strunk. At one point, when describing how an actor decides what actions to use to convey his character appropriately, someone asked him, “Do you consider how your actions impact the audience at this point in the process?” Keith replied, “Absolutely not. To think about how you are impacting the audience at this stage would be death.”

This got me thinking about the writing process, and at which points the author should consider the audience. Because Keith is right—there are some points at which we cannot think about the impact we are having on the audience.

When we are writing the story, that first draft, caught up in the creative passion, bringing it to life, we cannot consider an outside influence like the audience. The story needs to speak for itself, we need to hear what it and the characters need to come alive. If we start considering the audience, we run a grave risk of forcing the story into directions it should not go, or creating puppet-characters that only do what we think they should do. We risk taking the vitality out of the story.

After that draft, when the revision starts, that is when the audience should enter our thoughts. Are the characters relatable to the audience we are targeting? Is the language and content appropriate for that audience? This is where how we impact the audience comes into play.

I also think that we need to consider our audience in the initial idea phase. If you primarily write middle grade and you come up with an idea, you need to consider 1) would/could this idea make an appropriate MG story? and if not 2) do I want to write a story for a new audience and try and break into a new market? I do not think at this point you should try an shoehorn a non-MG idea into an MG idea, since then you end up with the problems mentioned above. But I do think you need to know before you start who your audience would be for this book. That way, if you do not want to break into a new market, you don’t waste your time on a book that you can’t sell to the market where you are already established.

To write your absolute best story, you need to listen to the story—not worry about your audience. So when you sit down to write, just write the story as it needs to be told. Listen to your characters. Be bold and explore.

Chances are, if you do that, your story will be so good that any audience will devour it.

When do you think about your audience?

Writing During the Holiday Madness

December 29, 2011 By Kerry Gans 2 Comments

I don’t know about you, but from Thanksgiving on my life has been a runaway train going downhill. I haven’t stopped for over a month. I feel like I haven’t breathed in about as long. An exhausting combination of travel, family obligations, illnesses, classes, and the requirements of survival have drained me. My gas tank is well below “E.” And yet, I’m still going.

So did my writing fare in this whirlwind? Did I even manage to get a single word written? I am pleased to say that yes, I did.

I did more than just eke out words, too—I was quite productive. I attribute this productivity to the fact that I am in between books. I finished a draft of one middle grade book and got it out to beta readers before the insanity began (which I had planned). The rest of this month was taken up with back-and-forth between my co-authors and me on the major revision to The Egyptian Enigma.

Mostly this consisted of new suggested timelines/outlines. Jim Kempner and I started with two separate outlines and the subsequent discussions (via email) slowly merged them into one outline that we felt contained the best of both. It helped that we were not that far apart on most major issues.

I would say that coming to an agreement on a completely new outline for our revision (and all the writing of those outlines to get there) is pretty productive.

Today we met face-to-face to hash out the details of things we had not been able to resolve online. We ended the 3-hour meeting with a finalized new outline—one that will cut some 30,000 words from the book, streamline the plot, and sharpen the focus.

Now we just have to implement it. We’re thinking of trying something new in our process. We’ll see how that works out. Working with three of us is an ongoing experiment to find the most efficient way to get from start to finish.

How did your holiday writing go? Or did you simply decide to take the holidays off?

Collaboration: The Meeting of the Minds

December 15, 2011 By Kerry Gans 1 Comment

If you’ve been following this blog, you know that my middle grade WIP, The Egyptian Enigma is the product of a collaboration with two totally awesome co-writers, James Kempner and Jeff Pero. You will also know that we just got incredibly detailed and spot-on notes from developmental editor Kathryn Craft on said WIP. So now we have massive revisions to do.

How do you do that with three people?

The revisions are fundamental in that we have to restructure the plot. That means adding scenes, re-envisioning existing scenes, and cut, cut, cutting what we already have. In essence, it means starting over.

I don’t mean totally, of course. There are many existing scenes we will be able to rework and salvage, and our characters will remain much as they are. But since the plot needs so much work, our process is starting over again.

We are having a meeting Dec 28 to discuss everything and get a new outline for the book. We have an agenda, because with 3 authors it is important to know what we will talk about so as not to waste time or run off on tangents. We know from experience that we can only work productively together for about 3 hours and then our focus collapses. So we have no time to lose. Thus the agenda.

To make our time even more efficient, we are all going to email each other our ideas for the new plot. We will do this a week before we meet, so we have time to read and react and absorb everyone’s ideas. Then we will discuss on the 28th and come to a final plot, a final outline. The hope is that the best of our ideas will come together and create some alchemical magic so we have a lean, strong, potent new outline.

Once we have that, I get to work. I will write the new first draft. Then it goes to Jim, who gives it to Jeff, who gives it back to me for a final voice revision.

Before all of that, though, there will be the meeting of the minds—and the synergy that comes with it.

Character Goals in Fiction

December 8, 2011 By Kerry Gans 3 Comments

I talked last week about the Premise in fiction, and how it can help underpin your entire story. I mentioned briefly in that post that clarifying character goals was also recommended to help make my middle grade manuscript The Egyptian Enigma more focused.

One of the exercises developmental editor Kathryn Craft suggested to me was to go through the entire manuscript and write down the characters’ goals for every scene. If your main character’s goal in the scene is not somehow related to the book’s overall story goal, then the scene is either not needed or needs to be reworked.

I figured that would be easy. I mean, my main character is doing all these things to try and accomplish a specific story goal, right? So obviously he has a goal in every scene.

Turns out, not so much.

Or rather, his goal sometimes has nothing to do with the main story goal he is pursuing. When his goal is to set the table, that doesn’t do much to forward the plot. That scene can go.

And of course you must remember that your main character is not the only character in the scene with a goal. Every character in a scene has their own goals they are trying to accomplish—and ideally they should be conflicting with the main character’s goal. This creates tension and conflict in every scene.

This scene-goal exercise does not take a very long time to do. The real trick is to be honest with yourself while doing it. Don’t write the goals you meant your main character to have—write the goals he actually has as written on the page. Once you do that, excess scenes become very clear.

So, to recap: Your main character will have a story goal—what he is trying to accomplish in that book. If your book is part of a series, he has a series goal, which will be resolved in the final book of the series. But he also needs to have scene goals, which drive the scene, give it purpose, and forward the overall plot. Other characters will also have scene goals which will conflict, obstruct, or sometimes coincide with the main character’s goals.

That’s a whole lot of goals—but looking at them closely will give you a tighter focus to your entire book.

The Premise in Fiction

December 1, 2011 By Kerry Gans 8 Comments

I recently got my manuscript The Egyptian Enigma back from developmental editor Kathryn Craft. Her 20-page evaluation highlighted the strengths and weaknesses of the manuscript. Luckily, much of it was good!

The main problem with the manuscript was that it lacked enough focus to really pull everything together. The plot wandered into odd places, and the characters didn’t always seem to have purpose behind their actions. As soon as I read this, I agreed—it was something that had bothered me but I couldn’t explain it.

Kathryn’s solution was 2-part:

1) clarify my protagonist’s goal so I could trim away the scenes that did not directly forward or obstruct his reaching that goal

I can do that!

2) stay true to the underlying premise of the book.

Excuse me, the what?

The Premise.

Now I’m in trouble, because I have no clue what that is.

Luckily, Kathryn is awesome, and she explains in great detail in her evaluation what a premise is and why it’s important: “A premise is kind of like a moral but not as didactic—it is your story’s raison d’etre. The structure of your premise will suggest story movement. That structure is typically:____________ leads to ___________.”

I have two co-authors whom I will have to talk to before crafting a final premise, but for the purposes of this post I will state the premise as: “Digging up information from the past leads to solutions for a better future.”

Having an underlying premise will help guide what plot points are needed to move the story forward. All plot points will show the protagonist “digging” into things, all of which will lead him into deeper trouble. But since we have a premise in place, we will be able to identify any scenes or plot points that are irrelevant and therefore can be cut.

Having an underlying premise also allows you to use your characters to deepen or to refute that premise, thus giving the characters more purpose and stronger arcs. My protag believes the past holds the key to a better future, and so digs at things perhaps best left buried. His brother believes that digging into the past is fruitless and painful and therefore should be avoided. You can also have characters with related premises, such as a woman digging into the past to try to understand and come to terms with her husband’s murder, or a girl digging in the past to gain the attention and favor of her mother in the present.

So having a strong underlying premise helps bring your plot into focus and helps you find new and deeper emotional roles for your supporting characters. A premise is, as Kathryn stated, a moral, but it is also a worldview held by the main character. This will shape the main character’s actions (and thus the plot) and bring him into conflict with people who do not hold the same worldview.

Now that we know what a premise is, and what the function is, my co-authors and I can hammer out a premise to act as the underpinning of our novel. Once we have that and our character’s goal, knowing what to cut or rearrange or rewrite should become much clearer.

Kathryn said that the character’s goal should be like a strung arrow pointing the way to the climactic ending.

If that is the case, then the premise is the bow holding the arrow up.

Revision: Stepping Up Your Writing Game

November 10, 2011 By Kerry Gans 3 Comments

My two co-authors and I just sent The Egyptian Enigma out for critique. Both of them are hoping for a relatively clean return. I am hoping for a lot of red ink.

I hear you asking, “Are you nuts?” (And since I’m hearing your voice in my head asking it, then perhaps the answer is yes.)

Nobody can actually want to revise! Not this deep into the writing project. To have to wade through an entire novel again! To have to rewrite scenes and chapters. To have to rethink characters and motives. To have to do yet another storyboard.

I understand. To revisit, to rewrite, to revise, can be frustrating. Especially if the revisions are of the major variety. Revising can sometimes feel like starting at square one—for the third or fourth time.

But I find it exhilarating. Sure, I get to the same “Not again!” feeling every once in awhile, but I see revisions (especially of the major variety) as a challenge. It’s a chance to step up my game. To stretch myself as a writer. To find a new writing level inside I never knew was there.

It’s also a chance to get it right. Every writer knows what I’m talking about: That feeling that what you put on the page doesn’t reflect the intent or the vision in your head, even though it’s the best writing you can do. That feeling doesn’t go away (at least, it hasn’t for me). It just keeps shifting as you learn more about your craft. There’s always something you haven’t mastered yet.

I am an editor. And I fully agree that you cannot effectively edit your own work. But as a writer and editor, I have a good nose for when my writing isn’t quite cutting it. When I don’t feel that “click” when every aspect of the writing comes together the way it should, making the writing feel solid and seamless. However, I often don’t know why I feel that lack of solidity, or how to fix it.

That’s why I’m hoping for a lot of red from this reader. Because The Egyptian Enigma is a really good book—but I want it to be better. There is something missing that can take it from a good book to a great book, and I can’t figure out what it is. I’m hoping my reader can tell me.

I want to step up my game.

Descriptive Language and Trusting Your Reader

September 22, 2011 By Kerry Gans 2 Comments

I’m taking a Write Your YA Novel in Nine Months class with Jonathan Maberry and Marie Lamba, and this week we talked about descriptive language. Marie brought in examples from published books, and the thing that struck all of us is how little description is needed to give the reader a vivid picture.

Choosing the right words is important, of course. One example described subways as “bathroom tiled” spaces, which is incredibly visual and right on the money. Choosing evocative words paints a complete picture with fewer words, because they pull in associations that you as the writer then do not have to explain.

Still, seeing how little you need to write to have a full-blown image in the reader’s head was eye-opening. It goes to show just how much the reader brings to the experience. Marie illustrated this by using the line, “He was in a spaceship.” Even without the author describing the spaceship, every one of us had a vision of the spaceship in our heads. Marie pointed out that they would all be different spaceships, but since the spaceship itself was not crucial to the story, there was no need for the author to specify details about the spaceship.

That is the lesson: Only describe the details that are vital to the story. Leave the rest to the reader’s imagination to fill in. Choose details that show the reader the characters’ POV and what is important in the world of your book.

Descriptive language is a part of the writing craft that I am still working on improving, but now I understand that by describing only the salient points, I can still get my point across while engaging in a partnership with the reader.

I think that is one of the hardest things to learn as a writer – that you are in a partnership with the reader, and you need to trust them to fill in the gaps. Trying to make sure the reader sees and knows everything can lead to ponderous overwriting that no reader will slog through. Books that honor that partnership are the ones that we remember most, the ones that as readers we have entered most fully.

Less can be more, if you do it right. Tell the reader only what they need to know, and let them do the rest. They’ll thank you for it.

When is a manuscript done?

September 15, 2011 By Kerry Gans 5 Comments

Okay, I will admit that’s a trick question. No writer I know is ever really “done” with a piece. We could all tweak until the end of time, because we are constantly growing in our craft.

But if we want to be published, at some point we have to finish the manuscript. It has to be “done” so we can send it out. So how do you decide when it’s done? When it’s “perfect,” or when you simply have revised so much you can’t stand to look at it anymore? Or some other criterion?

I don’t think there is any set rule, other than it has to be as good and polished as you can possibly make it. So the stopping point will be different for everyone. For myself, I usually consider it pretty close to done after the fifth or sixth major revision. At that point, I start to “feel” the story becoming solid. Almost like all the pieces of a puzzle locking together. Once I feel that solidity, I start the polishing process.

But sometimes I have a manuscript that never gets that “together” feeling. I love everything about it – plot, characters, you name it – but something just isn’t clicking. People say you can’t edit your own work, and I know that’s true for me. My editor’s nose tells me when something is wrong, but I can’t always see the manuscript clearly enough to figure out what it is.

How long do you work on a manuscript that you believe in but that simply is not working? If no one has been able to point you in the right direction, what do you do? What is the right length of time to struggle with it before putting it in the drawer and revisiting it later, when your writing skills have matured enough that you can hopefully pinpoint the problem and fix it?

Maybe I shouldn’t ask what length of time, because now that I have a toddler my writing time has disappeared. Before the baby, I was a workhorse – I could churn out words like nobody’s business. Now I fight for every word I get, so revisions take many times longer to complete than they used to. So perhaps the better question would be: How many major revisions before you say, “This isn’t going to work right now” and move on to something else?

I know people who have been “perfecting” the same novel for twenty years (and not because they have small children). It is hard to let your work go out when you know it’s not perfect. But nothing is ever perfect. At some point you have to say, “It’s as perfect as I can make it with the skill and tools I currently possess.” Then you send it out.

So when is a manuscript “done” for you? And at what point do you give up on a difficult one?

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