Words and Coffee

I’ve been feasting on a steady diet of podcasts and articles like a tiger on British Soldiers in Africa and came across some good stuff from Téa Obreht over at The Bat Segundo Show.  I probably would not have given the interview a second thought except that I had seen Obreht’s book, The Tiger’s Wife show up on a couple of blogs I enjoy, A Dribble of Ink and the The Speculative Scotsman. I’d considered seeing if I could find the book at our local library (that would be like winning the lottery) and then kind of left it alone. Checking my podcast subscriptions, I saw Obreht’s name beneath The Bat Segundo Show and thought I ought to give it a listen. The whole interview is enjoyable, but I particularly enjoyed this bit:

Correspondent: But if you’re constantly revising to get that precision, how do you keep yourself in surprise? Because that, of course, is very important to maintain the life of a story.

Obreht: Oh, that just comes normally. Because I have no idea what I’m doing! (laughs)

Correspondent: Yeah. The big thing that nobody really understands. That writers really don’t know what they’re doing often.

Obreht: Yeah. Exactly. You know, you stumble into things. And you’ll be 75% of the way through something and suddenly it’s like, “Oh, I changed my mind! Actually, this is going to happen because it feels more normal, more natural.” Then you have to backtrack and shift everything.

The excerpt from the show stopped before they got to the part I like the most where Obreht talks about forging ahead even when she knew what she had written wasn’t good or needed work, knowing that she could circle back and revisit it when the time was right.

There’s exquisite freedom in giving ourselves permission to be imperfect, to not know.

In a nutshell here’s what’s been going on (For maximum effect you need to let the video run as you read this):

1. I read through my manuscript
2. Started revisions (this morning)
3. I visited Michiana, MI with my family – we hooked up with some good friends and relaxed a bit
4. Been working like a dog at the day job
5. Been sweating
6. Been listening to Queen’s News of the World album
7. Finished George RR Martin’s A Feast for Crows (two nights ago), and…
8. Started George RR Martin’s A Dance with Dragons (a gift from my lovely wife for Father’s Day) – It. Is. Awesome.

That’s more or less it.

I’m shooting for a blog post a week at this point, because, let’s face it, given the choice between writing blog posts and working on ye olde novel, the Ser Novel wins every time.

Be good.

Just brutal. Not so much the work itself, though there are times I cringed at the purple prose or missing articles or non-sequiturs.  No, I’m talking about the ability to just sit and read what I’ve written without reaching for the pen. I don’t think it’s possible. But, how am I supposed to gauge how the story unfolds when I’m tightening things up?

I’m thinking of a few things that might help:

1. Go somewhere without pens/pencils/quills
2. Give myself permission to read without stopping
3. Convince myself that I’ll catch some of the obvious things when I read it next time around.

It would probably only take me a few days to read through the manuscript if I could do those things. As it stands, I’m plowing through and marking things up as I go. It’s a slower process, but I feel like I’ll be that much more effective the next time through.

Damn this learning curve.

These boots were made for revision.

Draft #3 is in the books. Now all I have to do is print the sucker out. It’s a little on the heavy side, weighing in at just under 130k words (520 pp. give or take). I’m sure that’ll shrink as I get into edits.

The good news is that it’s finally approaching a story that I find interesting. The bad news is that it’s taken me three full drafts (about 400k words) to get here. You can bet your ass that I’ll be outlining the hell out of the next novel.

After a read-through from my lovely wife and a bit of polishing, I’ll send this sucker out to beta readers and see what rolls in. Should be exciting/daunting/humiliating/illuminating.

When the feedback comes in, I’ll put on my good revising shoes, roll up my sleeves and get to work. For the time being, I’m off to work on some more short fiction, reading some Mervyn Peake and maybe begin outlining novel #2.

Giving up the Ghost

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And you tell me I’m the one you’re not to blame
And you tell me I make you feel the same way
And we talk in circles but we never say
It’s just out of weakness that both of us stay

And it ought to be easier
When you turn your lights down low
And it ought to be easier
To leave when you know that you have to go

Lyle Lovett – It Ought to Be Easier

Ain’t that the truth.

Even so, you fiddle and tweak and poke and prod your current work in progress and hold it in your loving arms, but the romance is gone. You are both tired of looking at each other and you don’t have the energy to rekindle the old flame. Yet, you’re having a hard time letting go. Which is funny, because you could be moving on to something fresh.

Like the next draft of your novel, or a new short story, or a tear-stained letter.

Whatever.

The thrill is gone
It’s gone away for good
Oh, the thrill is gone baby
Baby its gone away for good
Someday I know I’ll be over it all baby
Just like I know a man should

You know I’m free, free now baby
I’m free from your spell
I’m free, free now
I’m free from your spell
And now that it’s over
All I can do is wish you well

B.B. King – The Thrill is Gone

Sometimes you’ve got to power through to the end so you can begin again. I’m busting my hump to wrap up my second draft because I’m ready for the third. I’ll be hitting it with better organization, and thus a better understanding of what I’m trying to accomplish.

Besides, B.B. is preaching the truth – Once you let go, all you can do is wish it well.