By the way...

You know how I was feeling kinda superstitious about changing the first line of The Short, Sad Life of Tooley Graham?

Well, thanks to opinions of trusted peers and following my gut instinct, I changed it back to the original.

Phew!

I feel better.

(And my editor agrees.)

Monkey mind

Another thing about copy editing [are you sick of this subject yet?] is that it forces you to use your monkey mind (your conscious mind), instead of your wild mind (your unconscious mind).

[Natalie Goldberg's Wild Mind: Living the Writer's Life]

That means that you have to really think about the words in a different way than you think about the story.

It's almost as if the writing is just that: words....

....separate....individual words.....disconnected from the words around them that form a whole (i.e., a meaningful story).

Does that make sense?

Anyway....it can sometimes make me nuts - because when I think about the words so much, I lose the unconscious flow that was the original creation - and then I start questioning myself too much.

I'm currently going through the copy edits of my next novel, The Short, Sad Life of Tooley Graham.

Today I'm thinking about railroad tracks vs train tracks.

I know, I know.....

When I wrote the manuscript, I didn't think about those words.

Sometimes I used railroad tracks.

And sometimes I used train tracks.

And one copy editor says I should be consistent.

And one copy editor says it doesn't matter.

And I have a Post-It note on every page with that phrase so I can think about it.

And the more I think about it....

Good grief....

I need my monkey mind to go away and my wild mind to come back.

Obsessing

Okay, so I wake up in the middle of the night and am thinking about Tooley Graham copy editing and specifically:

When he heard the click clack of her heavy black shoes on the wooden stairs, he clamped a hand over his mouth to stifle a giggle. When he heard the kitchen door swing open, he clamped his other hand over his mouth, his shoulders shaking with a silent laugh.

And then I think:

Wait! Heavy black shoes don't go click clack.

Heavy black shoes go clomp, clomp.

But you can't use clomp and clamp in the same sentence.

So.....maybe.....

When he heard the clomp clomp of her heavy black shoes on the wooden stairs, he slapped a hand over his mouth to stifle a giggle. When he heard the kitchen door swing open, he slapped his other hand over his mouth, his shoulders shaking with a silent laugh.

What do y'all think?

Superstition

Okay, so here's another weird thing about the process of copy editing for me...

I'm very superstitious when it comes to some aspects of creating a book.

Before I can begin the process of writing a book...

....I have to have the perfect title.

And the perfect first line.

And the perfect character names.

Those three elements are critical.

Sometimes, it takes me a long time to get those three things.

Sometimes (most times), I have at least one of them before I have any idea what the story is about.

And once I have all three things, I never, ever change them.

I have this (probably stupid) feeling that if I do, something bad will happen. Heh....

[Side note: I was recently visiting my editor at FSG and was looking at her shelf of works-in-progress. I commented on one of them and she said, "It has a different title now." I was so shocked by that!]

The first (and very critical) sentence of my next book (The Short, Sad Life of Tooley Graham) is:

Owen Jester tiptoed across the gleaming linoleum floor and slipped the frog into the soup.

The copy editor is suggesting the addition of "pot of" (as in "pot of soup") to give the reader the right visual.

I know that makes perfect sense.

I know that "pot of soup" instantly clarifies the image and conjures up the kitchen and the stove and the whole scenario.

I know that that sort of mental image is very, very important.

But it sounds different than that first version that is so etched in my mind.

However, I think I'm finally going to drop my silly superstitions and listen to my more practical mind and make the change.

(By the way, please don't call the ASPCA. The soup is not hot. The frog liked swimming in the soup.)

And then ANOTHER thing....

....about copy editing is that you are sometimes (oftentimes) amazed at the things you didn't see even though you've read that manuscript 498 times (which, of course, is why you didn't see them).

For instance....

[From The Short, Sad Life of Tooley Graham]

When he heard the click clack of her heavy black shoes on the wooden stairs, he clamped a hand over his mouth to stifle a giggle. When he heard the kitchen door swing open, he clamped another hand over his mouth, his shoulders shaking with a silent laugh.

The copy editor suggests "his other hand" instead of "another hand."

(She politely points out that he only has two hands.)

Duh!

Reason #543 why we need fresh eyes on our work.

The problem with copy editing

I have a love/hate relationship with the process of copy editing.

My organized, attention-to-detail self loves it.

But my other self (whatever that is) hates it.

The reason I sometimes hate it is because it makes me obsess about small stuff until I'm so mired down in the trees I can't see the forest.

I remember working on copy edits for Taking Care of Moses and getting all tangled up and agonizing over whether a character skipped up the sidewalk or down the sidewalk.

And wording that sounded so right and natural when it came flowing out of my brain makes me scratch my head and go "huh?" when I read it for the 50th time.

Here's a good example of stupid over-obsessing (can you over obsess or does obsess imply over obsess? Where's my copyeditor? Or is it copy editor?):

Because he knew Viola was right about the staples. And he knew she didn't mean staples like the little ones for paper. She meant those heavy-duty kind like his father used to staple plastic over the windows in the winter at their old house on Tupelo Road.

Now, the copy editor is suggesting: "She meant that heavy-duty kind like his father used...."

And I think that is technically right.

But it just doesn't sound right to me - because that is not the way I would say it - even though I would probably say it wrong.....

.....I don't know.....

And then today I'm obsessing over:

He reached in and scooped Tooley up.

or

He reached in and scooped up Tooley.

I think I need to stop.

I know, I know......

I always feel like my first version is the "purest" and I should go with it - and then I go and over analyze everything.

(And don't go telling me you can't end a sentence with a preposition cause I don't follow no stinkin' grammar rules....)

Shhhh...

....don't wake the baby.


My manuscript came back from copyediting. (The Short, Sad Life of Tooley Graham; spring 2010).

Ruby is napping and I finally have time to tackle it.

The flowers are from my garden.

The tablecloth is the Western States one that I bought on eBay even though I already had the exact same one - because I am such a ding dong brain.

The Post-It note on the Oprah Magazine (Oh, come on....I need a break once in a while) says: r-u-u-u-m-m-m.

That's the sound that a bullfrog makes.

In the first draft, I had ribbit.

But bullfrogs don't go ribbit.

But I didn't know how to describe the sound they make.

So I did a little research.

And the research taught me that they go r-u-u-u-m-m-m.

The reason I wrote it on a Post-It note is so I would remember how many "u's" and how many "m's" I put in there.

See what hard work writing is?

Gone, baby, gone

Off to my editor and agent.....

Hooray!!

I see it! I see it!

The light at the end of the tunnel!

My perfect day

My husband is out of town so I have the whole weekend home alone.

I've pulled the shades.

Hung out the Do Not Disturb sign.

And stopped the world....

....to write.

It is heaven.

Here is where I wrote.

I know....so decadent, huh?



And if I were going before a firing squad this afternoon, this would be my request for my last meal: crabmeat, saltine crackers and cold beer.


Perfection.

Thud?

Travis yanked a small green cantaloupe off a tangled vine beside the birdbath and tossed it toward the porch. It landed on the walkway with a thud.

Huh?

A thud?

Note to self: change thud to splat

Sheesh....

But then, on second thought, a green cantaloupe might go thud instead of splat....

Note to self: Just get on with the story, wouldya?

Note to self again: Too bad it's not summer. What a great diversion I would have running outside to toss cantaloupes on the walkway.

Playing with words

So I was fiddling around with a small section of my WIP today and enjoying "listening" to the difference between two versions, based on verb tense.

Here's the version I wrote first (and which I like best - and which came out naturally):

And so it began. Owen and Travis and Stumpy and Viola maneuvering the submarine down to the pond. Owen and Stumpy pulling on the ropes. Travis and Viola scrambling to the rear of the submarine to pull out a pipe and carry it back around to the front. Inch by inch... ...foot by foot... ...yard by yard... ...they rolled the Water Wonder 4000 closer and closer to Graham Pond.

Now, I don't know what the heck you call those words, "maneuvering", "pulling", and "scrambling."

Present progressive pluperfect gerundian participlized verbs?

Beuller?

Anybody?

But then, for the heck of it, I decided to try the same thing but change the verb form to past tense.

So that I had:

And so it began. Owen and Travis and Stumpy and Viola maneuvered the submarine down to the pond. Owen and Stumpy pulled on the ropes. Travis and Viola scrambled to the rear of the submarine, etc.

But it doesn't sound as good to me.

It sort of loses the "drama" of the moment or something.

Or maybe it's just me.

But I find it so interesting how word choice affects mood.

Pant, pant, pant

Ten pages today!

Ten pretty clean pages!

My brain has now officially shut down so I'm packing it in for the day.

I feel so triumphant.

But now I'll lose some steam due to a school visit tomorrow, Thursday and Friday.

Am missing my critique group on Wednesday (which I HATE doing) to grab some more hours (with yet another vet appointment with Phoebe in the middle of the day. I know, I know...sheesh.)

Slow and steady wins the race

Chapter 21.

Making progress....

...one word at a time.

I guess this dang snow is good for something.

P.S. Okay, I confess....these are short chapters.

Progress report

Writing Tip Tuesday

Remember that Gloria Estefan song, The Rhythm is Gonna Get You?

[This video takes a couple of seconds to start...patience....]




Dang.!

She makes me want to be a hot, Cuban chick.

But, um, I guess that's not gonna happen.

So...anyway...

Rhythm of writing is important to me.

I know when the rhythm is off.

I know when something is needed to make the rhythm better.

I almost NEVER leave blanks in drafts - you know, typing in [INSERT SOMETHING HERE LATER].

I hate doing that.

But sometimes, I just have to.

I know something is needed and I just can't come up with the perfect thing but I need to get on with the writing.

And often, that something has to do with rhythm.

For instance, in my work-in-progress novel, there is a scene where the main character and his friends are looking for something beside a railroad track.

Here's what I wrote:

They found a bicycle wheel with broken spokes.
They found a bullet-riddled stop sign.
They found the bent-up frame of an aluminum lawn chair.
They found a mildewed, mud-covered sofa cushion.
They found a grocery cart with two missing wheels.
They found cinder blocks and broken bottles and ____.

I knew that the last sentence needed three things to make the rhythm right.

But I just couldn't think of the third thing....

...so I left a blank.

Which is what made me think about rhythm in writing.

(By the way, I did later fill in that blank with rusty cans.)

But now that I look at that, I'm thinking I have too many sentences - I should delete one - or maybe even two...but, dang, I like all those things.

I hate murdering my darlings.

Anyway...

Here's another example.

I spent quite a while on the following paragraph because, once again, I knew I needed three sentences (after the first one), each starting with an -ing verb:

Maybe he should be swimming freely around Graham Pond. Gliding gracefully through the water. Floating among the rotting oak leaves that had settled on the surface. Sunning lazily on the moss-covered logs along the edges.

I also knew that the word logs needed an adjective.

It was just a rhythm thing.

So here's my point: Pay attention to the rhythm of your writing. Some writing voices/styles have more rhythm than others - but no matter what your voice is, there is some sort of rhythm in there.

Maybe it's the balance of short and long sentences.

Maybe it's the length of paragraphs or even chapters.

Maybe it's the word choice.

Maybe it's all of the above.

Write with an ear to your own personal rhythm and learn to recognize when it is "off."

The rhythm is gonna get you.

Progress report

Progress report

At least snow days are good for writing.

My new office

Trying to write a book while doing school visits is challenging.

This is my new office.

Today I noticed the title changes I've made.

Porkchop Dreams was pretty good but had nothing to do with the story (heh!). Porchop dreams, by the way, is my term for those doggie dreams that dogs have when they yip and twitch in their dreams. They must be dreaming about porkchops, don't you think?

And Dear Owen is so boring - and also has nothing to do with the story.

This probably sounds weird, but in most cases, for me, the title comes before the actual story. I might have a hazy idea of the story, but not until I think of the title does it become clearer. That was the case with The Short, Sad Life of Tooley Graham.