Pages

Showing posts with label moving forward. Show all posts
Showing posts with label moving forward. Show all posts

Friday, May 25, 2012

Another aspect of advice


I don’t know if anyone saw this post by the lovely Beth Revis yesterday (hence the link), but I’ve been thinking about that book a lot. She calls it the book of your heart. I call it the book I think about every time I do a work out. Every. Time.

Right, and I’ve already written it.

And queried it.

And nobody took more than a 10 page bite (and man, those rejections came back faster than a tweet).

So I had this crazy idea. I hadn’t written it very well. I’d started it in all the wrong places. I’d done everything wrong that a person could, right down to the waking up from a dream sequence. Yeah, that was me with the waking up scene on page one. ::shakes head in presumed shame::

Well, I’ve decided that what it needed was about a million tons of voice, a POV shift (third to first) and a title change. I’m excited—like jump up and down excited—until I remember what querying was like the last time for this project. I was told that the premise was tired (someone said they had read a book that was pretty much exactly the same), and the writing was weak. Okay, I’ll grant the writing for sure. I can see that it was awkward and labored. And I can even see how the premise tied to that writing was definitely the death of that submission set. No questions. Every last agent who turned me down should have (and Thank you to those of you who asked for pages just in case it got any better; I <3 you). But I can’t let this book go. I just can’t. Not yet.

And this is where my dilemma breaks into the writing advice issue. In her post Beth talked about moving on. Letting go. Clearly her book was much closer to prime time because it went all the way to acquisitions at a major six (yikes!), whereas I had a handful of requests for pages. My concern is this, did I give my book a good enough shot and should I just move on, or should I rewrite it from scratch and see if I’ve gotten better enough? Should I do what Beth did and move on, letting the Book of my Heart wind up as the practice novel that never made it? No, I’m not asking the internet for advice, I’m about to give it.

See, Beth’s book went to an acquisitions panel. Lots of people had read it. My book… well, my mother, my grandmother, a few betas here and there (all of it fantastic). Agents? Well, I’m serious when I say I’m certain no one read past page ten (and it was a prologue, urg!). Right there, I can say that from a business stand point, my book hasn’t run its course. No one has seen it. And if I make the changes I plan to make, it’ll be utterly different. Whole new book = whole new query life.

What I think I’m trying to say is that each situation is different. Clearly, I’m still too attached to the book of my heart. That doesn’t mean I shouldn’t go back and rework it. Sometimes people give advice to writers that’s hard for me to understand.

Case and Point: Shannon Messenger. She wrote her novel and rewrote her novel forever. I mean forever forever. She wrote more drafts of her novel than I wrote of my dissertation (and that is really saying something). But if she’d gone with a lot of the conventional wisdom—write and move on—she might not have gotten published. (Yes, I know it's more complicated than that, but you can read it for yourself or check out her Friday the Thirteeners post here about giving up). 

Which means there’s a fine line between hanging onto our dreams and moving on to the next book. I’m not saying I disagree with Beth. I’m just saying that there’s a time and place for each of our steps. The question is recognizing where you are. My poor little novel had such terrible writing that it didn’t stand a chance.

I wouldn’t be in this position if I’d had a hundred fulls that got rejected by agents.

If tons of agents had read my book, it would be dead (or near dead). Trunked. Shelved. Sent to the great paper pulp known as my blender (strange art projects at the Rockford house).

I think that’s part of the move on advice. If your novel has already gone out into the business side of things, then it might be a goner. If three agents have read ten pages, clearly there’s some latitude for improvement. My advice: move on after you’ve really and fully walked down all the paths with a novel you are willing to walk down (and I know that for some of you that includes self publishing, and that’s perfectly okay too). That means rewriting, editing, revising, rewriting again. Many of the book-of-my-hearts out there are dropped. That’s when people give up. I think part of it is because those books are so emotionally tied to us that it’s very hard to be objective about them. It’s harder to rewrite them than anything else you’ve ever rewritten because they are your soul on paper. How can you control-C control-V on your heart? Control X?????

So yeah, move on. Don’t move on. Rewrite. Enjoy only for your friends and family relishing in the fact that you finished a novel, whatever. Do what’s best for you. Just remember that if your goal is publishing, that is a big part of your overall decision, and you have to look at the business side of things when trying to make the move one/stick with it decision.

Now, I’m going to go turn a query failure into PURE AWESOME.

Oh, and just to tease, I’ll even tell you the title and a touch of the hook (You know, the part where I sound like a used car sales man “Come on by and read my manuscripts, you won’t believe the stuff I write! Hurry, hurry, hurry!” But don’t actually hurry because I have to rewrite it from scratch).

PRINCESS SINGULARITY

1 princess + 1 prince = happily ever after
3 princesses + 1 prince = nightmare for the faerie godmother who has to sort it all out.

Tuesday, November 8, 2011

I'm not as crazy as I sound... maybe

I’ve been sick and injured, both key conditions for getting tons of work done. *sigh*

I could whine about it (wait, I think I am…) but that wouldn’t help me get anywhere, and what’s worse is that somehow I feel like it’s my fault that I’m injured and sick. Oh, that really frosts my hide. I know better, so why the guilt?

Okay, well, I know why, it’s counting down over there in the corner, so it’s not all that surprising, but still, it seems really crazy that I feel guilty for not being at the top of my game for the past week. How ridiculous.

So today, I’m going to try something. We all should give this a try (and if you are one of the few who can really make this work, let me know how): Today I am going to forgive myself, and let it go.

That’s right, for a limited time only, I’m going to let it go. I had a full seven days of under-productivity, and I’m going to write it off (hmm, maybe I can get some taxes back on it). I’m going to cut it lose and run with it. I’m going to be a person and not go crazy. I’m going to—dare I say it?—move on.

And really, this isn’t about enlightenment (I’m far too immature to reach enlightenment, more on that some other time). This is about done. I’m going to defend this semester by hook or by crook, and the only way to do that is to stop wasting time beating myself up over things that could have happened.

You know, I think I feel better already.



Dissertation
21 out of 200 pages done

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

Myopia

I’ve noticed something about myself. It’s something I’ve always done, but it’s gotten worse of late. I just can’t see myself doing anything other than exactly what I’m doing right now. I can’t even imagine the world outside of grad school. When I day dream about getting an agent, it’s feels like my daydreams about winning the lottery.
It’s like I’ve built up this idea that I’ll just get an agent, sign for a contract and suddenly everything in my life will be roses and tea time.
What’s wrong with my brain?
I know it’s fake. Even if I were sitting on a bestselling juggernaut that got signed tomorrow (I’m going with the extremes of my delusions), I’d still be well over 18 months from having my juggernaut on the shelves. So why do I let day dreams slow me down? Even at their greatest, they’re years to fruition. Even if I signed tomorrow, I’d still have to get up every morning (often earlier than I’d like); I’d still have to find a job for when I graduate (if I graduate?); I’d still have a mortgage, a floundering WIP, chores, dinner to make, dog poop to pick up and litter boxes to clean out.
In short, even if my greatest, most wild dreams of success were to come true: my life would be exactly the same tomorrow. The only thing that might change (and only briefly, mind you) is a digital number that represents how much money I have in my account.
I tend to be a dreamer (I’ve always loved imagining myself in fantasy worlds, or what would happen if I were cryogenically stored and revived in the distant future—considering how much SciFi/fantasy I’ve read, I think I’d be well prepared), and my dreams of grandeur have always been farfetched, so I guess that’s where it comes from. For the first time in my life, I’ve realized that if all my dreams came to fruition my life would be exactly the same.
In short, I’ve realized that getting published (or graduating) wouldn’t be like winning the lottery. It would change nothing. I’d just have to go back and write the next one.
I just can’t believe it took me this long to realize something so simple. I really am blind in the face of my dreams. Am I the only idiot with delusions of adequacy?