The Writing Life: a checkup

[lagilman]

the symptoms:

-Eyestrain.
-Hand cramps.
-Back aches.
-Nervous ticks.
-Contusions from *headdesking* three times too many. Or was it four?


the diagnosis:

-Author is doing second pass of the draft, pen and (three different colors of) highlighters in hand, laptop on lap, reams of hand-written notes and comments nearby (currently under a sleeping cat, actually).


I actually sort of enjoy this part. Finding where it don't work, and figuring out what will make it work. Creating scenes that add layers and depth to otherwise simple plot twists and revelations. Shading and filling and fertilizing the soil where it all grows. This is where I begin to love the book again, seeing what it could be, what it should be, if I've finally gotten the skills to where they ought to be.

It's the next go round, when I read it and realize my skills are once again and forever not up to the task my imagination has set them, that I've blown half a dozen chances to make the plot sing like Kathleen Battle, the characters glow like molten silver... that's when the agent comes and taps me on the shoulder and says "surrender the manuscript, Gilman!" And I go hide for a week or two, and drown my self-hatred in something new, something shiny, something that still has the potential to be Really Good, Damn It...


Sometimes, knowing yourself/your work habits is a real drag. *wry grin*

Comments

[housellama.livejournal.com]

It's the next go round, when I read it and realize my skills are once again and forever not up to the task my imagination has set them

Bah humbug...

Words are a poor substitute for images, the sounds, the smells, the concepts that come to those lucky or unlucky enough to have a strong imagination. The ability to concieve new ideas from old ones, or from the ether is both blessing and curse. No matter how hard we try, it is never quite the same as we conceive it, because reality is flawed, dirty, imperfect.

However, your writing is amazingly real. Obviously I don't know what's in your head, but I suspect you are one of those cursed with the kind of imagination where the images sear themselves in vivid color across your brain and don't go away until you do something with them; the kind that breeds ideas faster than australian rabbits. But your ability to translate those images to the page is damn good. Good enough to sear your characters across my brain as well. I've often found myself laughing when rereading the Retrievers novels because Wren or Sergi said or did or reacted in just the way I would have.

You may feel that you cannot match up to the images in your head, but for the rest of us, it's just fine. *smiles* Keep up the good work Laura.

-Tug

[lagilman]

*shuffle shuffle shuffle blush*


Thanks. But the truth is, my visions for what I should be creating so far exceeds my actual reach, it's a wonder I haven't thrown my shoulder out yet. Not that this is a bad thing -- in fact, I think it's a very good thing -- but it is damn frustrating.

[housellama.livejournal.com]

Frustrating I can understand... But I think that goes with writing in general. One of my friends is also a writer and I hear a lot of the same things from her. When her first novel manuscript went to the editor, she wouldn't talk to anyone about it for a week because she was that unhappy about it. So... I don't think you're alone in this.

-Tug

[neutronjockey.livejournal.com]

*snicker* on a related topic, your dymk has mail ;)
-=Jeff=-

[lagilman]

off to check, soonish. thanks for the heads-up.

[debg.livejournal.com]

(passes suri nummy treats and cabana boys)

I sympathise completely on the list of symptoms, but I can't empathise; I work differently. All my symptoms come on the first go-round, not the last.

Of course, since I seem to be non-stop first-rounding on many books these days, we're talking concussions from headdesking, not contusions...