Tag Archives: manuscript

The Write Before Christmas

Wouldn’t it be great to have a jolly, old elf pop in and edit your manuscript for you?

A little holiday cheer, for all you writers out there:

664413_letter_to_santa

The Write Before Christmas

[Yes, Virginia, I wrote this myself.]

‘Twas the cusp of the holidays

And all through the house

Not a creature was stirring

Not even her mouse

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard with care

Desperately seeking a masterpiece there

Her children all finally upstairs in bed,

The Writer tried to set free the dreams in her head

With her coffee grown cold

And a quilt on her lap,

She wrestled in vain

With a writer’s great trap

For from her stilled keyboard

Came no further clatter

Writer’s block, she knew,

Was the heart of the matter

Distraught, to the window she flew like a flash

Tossing another page into the trash

The glow from her monitor lit up the room

Imparting a sheen of frustration and gloom

When what to her wondering eyes should appear

But a miniature sleigh, all laden with gear

With a spry little driver, so lively and quick

Great Heavens, she thought, could this be St. Nick?

Swifter than rejection letters his reindeer they came

And the dapper little man called each one by name

“Now, Character Development! Now, Tone, Voice, and Diction!

On Dialogue, Plot, Word-Choice, and Flash Fiction!

To this stumped writer’s keyboard at the end of the hall!

Now dash away, dash away, dash away all!”

As writing professors with their red pens do fly

When they tear through an essay offending the eye,

So straight to her manuscript the proofers they flew

With their sleigh full of gear and St. Nicholas, too

Nitpicky hooves clattering, Dialogue muttered “Oof,

If I’d written this tripe, I’d throw myself off the roof!”

Nick smiled at the Writer, joined his proofers at work.

“Don’t mind Dialogue,” he whispered, “Sometimes he’s a jerk.”

The Writer withdrew to a spot in the back

Watching the reindeers clackety-clack

Nick wore a tweed sportcoat, with natty, patched elbows

Enormous bifocals perched atop his snub nose

His fingers were tarnished with toner and ink

He turned with a smile, gave the Writer a wink

His eyes, how they raced through her work at top speed

His fingers so dexterous, doing their deed

His brow, how it furrowed at each pesky ‘graf

“I’m sorry, “ the Writer said. “It’s just my first draft.”

A wink of his eye and a twist of his head

Soon gave her to know she had nothing to dread

“All that this manuscript needs, my poor dear,

Is a bit more attention here, here, and here.”

He polished each page, worked the point of view over

While his cloven-hoofed proofers munched on some clover

Nick checked both thesaurus and worn dictionary

When at last he was done, his face looked quite merry

“There, now! Just read the feedback I’ve left.

You’ll find the suggestions I’ve made are quite deft.

You’ve got potential, tho’ I’d watch out for trope

Keep up the good work, and don’t ever lose hope.

Like really good stews, manuscripts need to simmer.

So dump that stale coffee, go heat up your dinner.

The more you stare at it, the harder it is:

Sometimes writer’s block is just part of our biz.”

And handing her the new Chicago Manual of Style,

He chortled and winked and turned with a smile.

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle

And they left her small office with the speed of a missile.

But she heard Nick exclaim, ere they drove out of sight

“Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good write!”

And the winner is…

…the kids. There was a general outcry (all right, maybe it wasn’t quite that pronounced, more a general wave of frownie faces) when I told the kids I was trying to decide which novel to resume and that it might not be “theirs.” They really wanted me to work on something I’ll actually let them read, so that was that–I am back to work on my youth fantasy manuscript. And surprise–I’m completely engaged in it, much more than I was when I last set it aside a few months ago.

New characters, plot twists, even a new title and a theme, an actual theme, have all been popping in and out of my mind like some crazed literary version of Whack-a-mole. I feel like Neo at the end of The Matrix, when he looks at the agents and sees only code, the entire world laid out before him in insanely pristine clarity. After so many months–let’s face it, closer to years–of working at revising a manuscript, I had almost forgotten how much freakin’ (to quote my kids) fun it is to create a new one.

I just spent two hours working on it and it felt like two minutes. I am filled with joy at rediscovering that feeling.

Writing this book is also different in that I not only can share it with my kids, but I want to; they are, after all, my target audience. Hearing their feedback and pondering their suggestions is turning out to be much more fun than I ever thought it would, though probably not, in reality, as much fun as they thought it would be:

“What did you think of my new title, guys?” “Got any ideas for a good name for my new character?” “What do you think Bibi’s favorite color should be?”

“Really, Mom? The novelist thing was kind of cool at first, but could you just get me a snack and let me get back to Roblox? I’m at kind of a critical moment here…”

Let ’em gripe. I’ll just write it into the book. Mwahahahaha…

Let’s do the time warp again…and again…and again

For this twenty minutes, I am forcing myself to take a break from my manuscript. I’m finding, as I’m spending more time on it now, that it is increasingly easy for me to get lost in that other world and lose all sense of time.

For example, when I settled down to work on it on this morning, I anticipated spending an hour or so on it before moving on to other projects. Um. I was shocked to look at the clock just now and find that I’d been writing for over two-and-a-half hours straight. It felt as though I’d only just sat down! Hence the title of this post: I had entered The Time Warp, that magical place writers visit when they are neither here nor there; when their bodies slump carelessly over notepads or laptops, seemingly lifeless but for the scritching of pencils or clicking of keyboards; when the words come on and on, heedless of the passage of time (or the increasing insistence of full bladders, which is what finally broke the spell for me. I think this may be why so many writers I know drink so much coffee while they work: it creates a biologically timed round trip of sorts, forcing you to return to the real world occasionally. This is just a theory, but a plausible one, I think).

The Time Warp doesn’t always happen for me. Sometimes the writing is a grueling chore, where I count every word and swear that I can actually hear my hair growing while I wait for inspiration, so when I do ‘warp’ away for a while, I am extremely excited and inspired about it. It usually means something good just happened in my book. I think it did this time–time will tell, right?

It’s time to go back now, at any rate: I’ve taken my little break from the manuscript, attended to a few biological imperatives, and refilled and nuked my next cup of coffee. I am ready for my return warp–I hope it didn’t leave without me. See you next trip.

Sometimes you have to open that window yourself…

Well, it’s been a couple of weeks now, and I’ve moved on. This time around, I had a plan in mind already for things I would do in case it wasn’t grad school again this fall, and having a backup plan has made things a lot easier.

So what am I up to now? Well, on the novel front (which I am still working on, thank you very much), I’ve decided, at least for now, not to go with the mentoring press. Number one, it was much too expensive (at least, too expensive unless I win the grant I applied for–I’ll save that for another blog post), and number two, after having a small, trusted group of terrific readers vet it for me, I realized (again) that the book is just not ready yet.

That realization, I think, was more depressing than being rejected for grad school again, but I’m getting smarter about never jumping out of these metaphorical planes without a parachute firmly strapped to my back. I had a plan already in place–it’s time to see a doctor. Not a psychiatrist, though that probably wouldn’t hurt. No, I have met with a “book doctor,” because this physician just can’t heal herself (or her manuscript) at this point.

I was worried about going down that path–after all, I’m an editor, shouldn’t I be able to do this myself? Um, can a brain surgeon perform his own lobotomy? Helloooo! No, he can’t, and at this point, I know I need another (professional) set of eyes.

Any concerns I had turned out to be fleeting: in a single meeting with this editor, she was able to tease out the one tiny thread holding together a huge Gordian knot that’s been wreaking all kinds of havoc with this manuscript, and I am ready to set it on fire now (figuratively, not literally–are you nuts? It does need work, but I wouldn’t actually burn the darned thing)! What I really mean to say is that I am on fire, filled with renewed enthusiasm for my story, something that’s been missing for several months, so at least for the moment, I feel like I’m back on the right track.

Embarking on another revision is daunting, but I think this will be the one. No, I’m sure it will be, actually, because after I finish the revision, and my editor works it over to her satisfaction, I will declare that it IS DONE and then I plan to publish it as an e-book. I will definitely let you know when it goes live, but first, I’ve got some work to do, and I’m actually excited about it for the first time in months–a very good sign.

On the work side of things, I am giving my freelancing business face a makeover: Stretching my fledgling graphic design wings, I’m working on a new logo, corporate name, web site, getting everything all shiny and updated for a launch later this spring (good to know that tuition wasn’t wasted, at least), so keep your eyes posted for lots of updates about that.

I guess the real bottom line for today’s post is that a lot of doors slammed shut in my face over the past few weeks, and I wasn’t seeing any windows flying open, either. Just giving up and walking away might’ve been the easier (and perhaps saner) thing to do, but whoever realized their dreams by being sane and taking the easy route?