AFDOC 16

Thirty-two chapters and counting. Backstory and I have become the best of friends because I think I've figured out what to do with a lot of what I want to keep, how to express it and weave it and ignore it to make it work. I probably could have woven a rug with the amount of time I spent this week with backstory. I put aside the direct line to the end and went backwards, forwards and sideways - well you get the idea. I scanned the book from front to back with a somewhat jaded eye and found out the pacing and plot are moving forward in a somewhat logical manner. I've been so bogged down in the words and phrases and ideas of my critique buddies, I got lost.

High on my list of "thank my lucky stars" is Wanda, a member of my Wednesday Writers critique group. Wanda and I commiserated over being lost 3/4 of the way through the revisions of our novels, and I was reminded once again, that I'm normal {as normal as I get} and right on target with feeling frustration at this point. Thanks, Wanda. I was able to get in about eight hours of revisions after we talked. Up till then, I was ready to shove the whole thing under the bed, in the drawer, or maybe through the shredder, but I'm back on track now - a little wobbly but on the track headed towards the end of the first revision. Did I say FIRST?

David Madden's book on revising is chock full of examples of revisions made by some of the greats - Welty, Faulkner, Fitzgerald, Joyce, Wolfe. It's so helpful to read what they orginally wrote and how they changed it and some of them kept making changes through the printing after printing. At least there's hope for me - if rewrites are what make you famous, I'm a shoo-in.

Everything I've said today makes about as much sense as this did, but what can I say? I'm living in the 50s for the time being. I've cautioned my family to watch me if I go into a carpet store. I might buy avocado shag carpet in this frame of mind.

Mahala

Novel Experience

It's so nice to see sunshine. It's been storming for over a week and my poor Cavalier, Hannah, has alternated between a state of panic and confusion after her medication to stop the panic. Today her eyes look normal, and she is her usual self, begging for food every other minute.

Yesterday, I was so stoked when the sun glazed me in perspiration as I headed out to run errands, I took a swing by the library and did some research for my new novel. I'm trying to firm up the time period, and what better way to do that than research fashion, accessories, and makeup for the time. Sounds trite as I type it, but it made perfect sense to me yesterday. It took three trips from my car to get all the books I found into my house. I have a tendency to go overboard when doing research; however, I feel smarter and more writerly {is their such a word?} just staring at them stacked high on my desk. I found great information on churches, schools, etc. and just couldn't avoid piling them in my basket.

A couple of good things did come out of the rainy weather. Since I couldn't use the computer, stove {a nice bonus,} television, etc., I sat at an eight foot table I've stationed in my dining room and began to wade through all my notes and critique feedback on my current novel - those from different groups of writing friends that I hadn't input yet and whittled down the three foot stack to two nine inch stacks. By the end I was sipping on a glass of peppermint schnapps and wondering why in the world I thought I could write a novel. Short stories, personal essays, magazine articles - yes I had done all that, but a real, honest-to-goodness full length novel. Who did I think I was? A couple of more sips of the ice cold brew {I keep the bottle in the freezer by the way} and new ideas started to pop out all over the place, and I knew beyond any shadow of a doubt that MY novel will be Faulknerian in its Southern greatness.

Although I didn't get much sleep last night because my mind was unbridled in its enthusiasm to write and re-write scenes and to find places where more narrative summary would work, and on and on, and although my only inebriation today is from the communion wine, I'm thinking with a tad more logical resolve. I have a lot of work to do and am really excited to make the revisions I envision and study the notes from writing peers and take this baby on home. "They" say editing is easier than writing cold. I'm about to find out if "they" know what they're talking about.

I have a feeling Lily Tomlin was right when she said: Things are going to get a lot worse before they get worse.

Mahala