Breaking the Ending

As November is over, so is no-shave November. I am keeping up the growth until the beard party we're having--then who knows. I will be sure to post a "final" product though, so you may all laugh at my scantily clad chin.

In reference to the title, I finally did it. I broke the ending to my novel, Jumping Off Bridges. And it is a very good thing.

I've always heard that good writers "kill their darlings." I have done this. Without mercy. At least in other places. However, I've hung and clung to the ending worse than a sleeping bat clings to its roost. Funny thing is, I never looked at the ending as a darling. It's not that I was incredibly smitten with what I had written, but it was the ending I had envisioned when I first put my fingers to the keyboard.

I've mentioned before that this novel started with the intent of being a short story, a short story that I only had an ending for. Like most organic things, the story became a novella and the novella became a novel--yet I still had my ending in mind. I wrote the whole thing to write that last scene. While it was never my favorite part of the novel--I think that comes somewheres in the middle--it was what I had always intended and, thus, tried to make everything fit around. As any writer knows--novice or expert--forcing your story to do what you want and not what it wants causes catastrophic problems. This is what I've been doing for the last few revisions, this stuffing into my preconceived mold, and it is no wonder that I keep feeling like something just isn't right. It doesn't feel right because it isn't right. This is not the ending the story demands, but the one I've imposed, and it doesn't make sense.

So I've let it go. I've realized my intentions were foolish--especially when my novel told me time and time again what should happen at the end. I ignored my own words. I ignored the whispers of my prose--a very, very dangerous thing to do. But they finally erupted last night, punching through my half-sleep musings and screaming for me to quit booping around and do what they'd been telling me all along.

What's better? It won't take long to fix this either. Not only will it make my novel a zillion times better--and finally complete--it involves the rewriting of three scenes. Three. That's it.

It just goes to show that the smallest of tweaks can fix the biggest of problems, and reiterates the sound advice that a writer should listen to her story. It does not care what you, the writer, wants. Stories live their own lives; it is our duty to simply record them. We are their Tivo. And like all recording devices, the work comes out the highest quality it can be when we take the time to listen.

If you have any thoughts on this from your own writing, or advice you've heard, I'd love to keep this conversation going. I hope to gear this blog more and more towards my writing process and breakthroughs and blocks I have. Have a wonderful weekend, everyone.

Mowing, Blokus, and Novel Update

Words of advice: though waiting ten weeks to mow your lawn might save you a few hours of overall time, it is not fun. And now my arms and legs are angry with me--possibly the mower too. And the lawn. It looks like we own a dog that pees in the same spots over and over.

In other news, I tried Blokus this weekend, and I heartily endorse it. Not only do the games take, maybe, twenty minutes tops, the dynamics of the thing can change in a heartbeat. A bit of strategy, a bit of luck, and a good chunk o' fun. Pick this up if you have the chance. I believe it is rather cheap.

As for the novels, I have yet to hear back from the agent for the one. We've hit the three week mark, which is when she contacted me last time, but I heard she has been rather busy these last few weeks. Keep your fingers crossed. The other is coming along quite nicely. In fact, I'm really enjoying writing this one and can already see it starting to take shape. Though I know the general direction of where this thing is headed, I'm excited to see the detours and the final destination.

In the meantime, Gibberish tomorrow.

Wow... Almost Missed Today

Totally spaced this out today. I thought I wrote this earlier this morning. Glad I checked.

As for things to report: I've started another novel. It may turn out to be a short story, but I HIGHLY doubt it--considering it's based on a short story I wrote during my undergrad days. I've changed the main character, though I think the original character will still be in this one. We'll just have to see what happens.

The biggest thing with this one is that the process is already COMPLETELY different from my last novel. I suppose this is what they mean by each piece of fiction being its own evolving entity. Unlike Jumping Off Bridges, where I had an ending in mind, I just need to find a way to get there, this one, tentatively titled A Startling Lack of Color, is a bunch of pieces. Because it is based on the short story, I have pinpoints, places I want to be, but I won't know how to tie them altogether or how they will all add up to a story. So, instead of going from point A with point B in mind, I'm simply writing whatever point I feel like, could be A, could be GG, could be ZZZ, who knows? I figure I'll frustrate my future self, write it in pieces and let the me of a few months down the road go, "Why the balls did I not write this in a logical order?"

Considering how much I had to restructure Jumping Off Bridges, I figure it might be easier this time around to just have pieces to move around as I please. We'll see. I'll keep you updated as time goes on. I'm hoping this one is only about 60,00 words compared to JOB's 80,000+. Again, who knows. JOB was supposed to be a short story.

I'll keep you all posted as things progress, and perhaps I'll start a "Progress Report" along the side here. So you can see what all my projects are and where I'm at with them. Another writer I saw did this, and I thought it was a good idea. I might just steal it.

Gibberish tomorrow.

Novel Update: Done?

After a long haul of around 11 hours of writing yesterday, I think, I think I'm done. Granted, all I can think is that the whole thing is a piece a crap, and if anything, I ruined it as I cut pages, added some more, re-organized the last quarter of the thing, and added a new ending.

I suppose we will see soon enough. I'm mailing it out to the agent today for round two. Basically, I figure that if she passes again, I'm now in a good position to shop it around elsewhere. Otherwise, even if she wants to simply see another re-write, I figure I'm in. Any agent willing to look at not one, but TWO, revisions has to be invested enough to stick with you, right? Maybe I'm just projecting.

Either way, I suppose we'll know soon enough. Last time it took, maybe three weeks to hear back from her. Hopefully, it will be even sooner this time around, as I'm now in the "Requested Material" status. Who knows though. I'm just going to try to remember to breathe, to remember that I know have a novel that is very much ready to be shopped around, and I can distract myself with the sweet Rock Band grooves of the Beatles.

Novel Update: Pacing

On every earlier draft I had, I couldn't wait to be done, so much so, that I barreled through the last few chapters, turning them into thin bits of plot rather than good writing. With each draft, they have gotten a bit better, a bit more meat on those bones, but I inevitably race to the finish line. This time, I'm really trying to hold back, to keep myself going at a slow walk through the prose, find where it needs more emotion, more description, more sensory images.

It's getting harder and harder to do this though, as I'm nearing the completion of yet another draft. I can tell that it is better than the last, but I'm not sure by how much, or if it was even worth all the extra time. I honestly have no idea what I'm doing. I never have. Words come, and I put them on the paper. They do their own thing. I simply listen. I just hope I was tuned into the right frequency this time...

See you on Monday, with a completed novel, and less of an ulcer--I hope.

Novel Update: Puzzling

At this point, I feel like my novel has become one of those puzzles that is nothing but one color, or the same kind of texture (grass, hair, clouds, etc.) where there are so many possibilities for the pieces to fit together--sort of--but only one of them is the correct spot. I've moved a few more things around, and they feel even better in their new locations. Hopefully this is a good thing.

I've also been combining a few of the chapters, cutting out the boring parts and going for the throat instead. I'm really hoping this thing is much more emotionally engaging than the last draft, but really, who's to say if I've truly succeeded? It's going to be different for everyone. But I know that I feel drained after writing some of these things, like my emotions have sapped from my fingers and onto the page. Could be wishful thinking, but I suppose I'll find out soon enough.

As a side note: My cat has now been missing for a full 24 hours, and that is always disheartening. He's done this type of thing before and been gone for a little more than two days, so my wife and I are trying to keep the worries to a medium. Plus, this time around he has a collar with his name and my number, so I'm thinking SOMEONE would've called if something had gone wrong, right? Here's hoping...

Novel Update: The Tear Down

Right after my post on Wednesday, everything went wrong. Seriously, seriously wrong. Everything I was writing was utter crap. I felt with every atom of my being that I was ruining the thing I'd worked on so hard and so long and put so much love and effort and attention into. I was ready to throw the whole thing out the window.

Because of this, my wife--thank God for her--suggested I take a night off. I did. No writing Wednesday night.

And Thursday started a bit better, I was going through my chapters, plugging right along, but the feeling never went away. I kept feeling like, "No, this is wrong. I am ruining the entire novel." My friend and mentor, Mark Haskell Smith, told me I should simply follow my instincts, and if my instincts are telling me to stop--for the love of everything you hold dear--STOP WRITING.

Another chapter later, I finally listened.

I sat down--after climbing out of bed at close to midnight--with a pen and a scrap of paper my wife and I write our grocery lists on. I wondered what would happen if I simply cut half of this crap that was giving me problems, and it seemed like it would all be better. And like what I'm about to do with my novel, I'll condense the ending.

Basically, I'm restructuring the last few chapters, cutting a few more, and blending a few of the others. I think the overall arc is now EXACTLY as it should be. There will need to be tightening and a few more scenes that need some overhauling, but I think--knock on wood--that I finally have everything in order to make this thing an emotional punch in the face, gut, and genitals.

See you, maybe, on Monday. There may just be a bonus comic instead.

Novel Update

As this thing has all but taken over my life, I'm simply going to do novel updates for the next two weeks when Gibberish isn't there to entertain. If I see/read/hear something good, I'll still pass it on, otherwise, the updates might be a bit boring for the next bit.

Basically, things are on track. I've got until Sept. 14 to send off my novel back to the agent. (I just heard back from her on a check in, and they are still interested in seeing what I've done with the thing.) I've got less than a hundred pages to go, and unlike previous drafts of the novel, I feel like I not only know where this thing should go, but I also know the HOW and WHY it's going where it is. Perhaps this means I finally know what I'm doing. Perhaps I've finally just ruined the whole thing. I suppose we'll find out by the end of the month.

So get your freaking out hats on, because I'm sure caught up in the midst of it.

p.s. I'll be sure to let you know when the aforementioned interview/article about me drops at Broken Frontier.

Novel Day

Some of you might have been under the assumption that today was President's Day. You are wrong. It is Novel Day, and I will be spending the rest of it holed up in my "office" and writing/revising away.

I am leaving.

Gibberish tomorrow.

Stupid Nestle.... and Knuckle Crackers

I'm still rather peeved at Nestle. Dirty company, up to their old tricks.

Anyway, I'm about nose deep into my novel right now, and I'm finding it hard to concentrate/devote any time to anything but busting out the next draft of that thing. I had one of those moments the other day where everything just sort of fell into place, the catalyst domino toppled and everything else started making more sense than before. So that's cool.

What's not cool is people who crack their knuckles and neck. (Well, I suppose they can still be cool.) I swear that tiny pop makes me cringe just as much or more than pre-tubby Steven Seagal breaking bones and jabbing pool cues into thug's throats. I don't like it. Be polite, like your farting, and pop those joints in another room, out of earshot. (Though I realize that this rant does nothing for anyone, unless you know me, and if you know me, then you know that I can deal with it. So, really, what I'm saying is that we've all wasted our time.)

Lastly, I'll leave you with two new things that thrill me. Don't know if you like Coldplay, but the new album is quite good. Different but still good. And if you need some extra time to waste online, you could do worse than going here. This woman is brilliant and her comics amuse me. Go there, smile, then love me for finding her for you.