From Head to Paper

Copyright Konami.  Source

Someone (a hobbyist composer) recently said to me that it is extremely difficult for him to get the song he has in his head onto the computer or the piano.  That got me thinking about the same problem I have.

It seems all creatives have a problem of interference or distortion on the path from the brain to the paper/canvas/computer etc., wherein the result is not exactly the way they imagined it.

So the question is, how do we minimise the effects of this interference?  Let me give you an analogy.

If a sculptor or wood whittler starts out, the first thing they do is find a piece of stone/wood that is roughly the shape of the thing they want.  After that, they go a little more detailed and then a little more, until they finally have the thing they want.

With writing, revision is the key to minimising interference.  Every time you redo the piece, it will be closer to what you imagined.  Though, I suspect, it will never be exactly as you wanted it.  It’s like the tortoise/hare philosophical problem.  If the tortoise is in front of the hare, the hare can never catch up.  Why?  Because to reach the tortoise, he first has to cover half the distance to it.  After he did that, he has to cover half the rest of the distance and so on and so on, resulting in an ever decreasing distance, but an ever present amount that can be halved.

The point is, your work will probably never be as good as you want it to be, but repeated revision will minimise the problems.

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4 Functions of Revision

I used to think revision was for fixing problems, and within that mindset lay the majority of my problems with revision.

Maybe I’m not the only one who thought/thinks that, or maybe it’s just one of my ‘aah’ moments (wherein I realise something after some time which has thus far been obvious to everyone else).  Regardless, here is my revised (pun intended) list of things revision is for.  But the previous one consisted only out of one point, so it wasn’t really a list.  So, rather, here is my first list of uses of revision:

Fix problems

When you write a first draft, you’re supposed to spam it down as fast as you can, not stopping for anything (Sort of what NaNoWriMo tries to teach you).  Thus, if you come to a point where Pete needs both his arms to escape the lair of the nefarious Lester, but you amputated one of them in an emotional scene back in chapter 5, you’re going to want to go back and fix that.

But the smart people say that you should just make a note of it and go on, as if it’s already been fixed.  You can then fix the problem by revising all the parts that need to be different because of Pete’s two arms and the replacement of the amputation scene etc.

Find and strengthen theme

If you like Stephen King’s metaphor of a story being a fossil that you’re uncovering (I do), a theme will emerge during the first draft.  (Donald Maass said, “What do you want your reader to think about as they’re reading your novel, or later? That’s your theme.”)  In fact, there’ll be quite a few.  When you read your first draft, they will occur to you and you can make a note of which ones you like.  Then, during revision, you find the parts where your chosen theme is highlighted and highlight it even more (but do it covertly).  Then find the parts where other themes are highlighted and tone it down.

Character

With revision, you can look at the different parts of a character’s personality and decide which ones are important.  For example, it is crucial that you give the readers a reason to like the protagonist early on, so with revision, you select an attribute that is likable (i.e. loyalty) and see how you can change your first five pages to reflect that attribute.  Just so, you can select parts of your character that you want your readers to know about and find ways in which you show them through actions or dialogue or appearance.

You can also introduce new characters to fill a void or merge two existing secondaries to make a stronger character.

Tighten Prose

Stephen King says (and he knows what he’s talking about) that the second draft equals the first draft minus ten per cent.  Revision is also a time in which you reduce the mass of your story into more tightly packed pieces.

You take a look at an important sentence and ask yourself, “How can I change this sentence to make it clearer?”  You take out scenes that drag and don’t advance your story.  You edit scenes that need to be there, but are too slow-paced or too unclear.  You take out overzealous adverbs and passive voice that bogs down the action.  You put in details that bring the environment alive.

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I’ve always wondered how people can say that revision is their favourite part of writing, but now I know.  The revision reveals the true story.  To continue King’s fossil metaphor, the draft is the shovel that opens the fossil and revision is the small brushes that mark out the details.

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Huh? So what? and Oh yeah?

I previously mentioned the three things Orson Scott Card said are going through a reader’s mind. That is, Huh?, So what? and Oh yeah?. Here is a breakdown of what it means. (I copied the base idea of these three into a notepad a long time back from someone’s notes to an OSC bootcamp. Can’t remember who.)

“Huh?”

What it means

The reader is lost. Something doesn’t make sense. The reader is confused as to what is happening. It might be something that wasn’t explained sufficiently. This can often happen if you assume a reader would know what something means when they do, in fact, not.

How to fix it

You need to give the story clarity. Make sure you’re not assuming prior knowledge from a reader that might not be there. A good way to test this is through beta readers who know nothing about what you wrote. If you find such a problem, you need to make things clear or fix any inconsistencies. Look out for parts where you imply to a high degree – it might be a place where you could lose a reader.

“So what?”

What it means

The reader doesn’t care. A man is being chased by a rabid dog, but the reader doesn’t care whether the man gets bitten or not. It’s all the same to him/her. You need a reader to sit on the edge of their sitting surface and gnash their teeth, anxiously awaiting the result of the chase.

How to fix it

You need to let the reader care. Mostly, such a situation calls for character development. You need to show the reader that the person in a pickle (or anything else, really) is worth caring about. You need to tell them why they should care. The hero is a good guy. The woman is the key to saving the world. Whatever the case may be. This is the reason why people tell you not to start a story with danger. An unknown character in a dangerous situation will immediately put the reader on a So what course. You have some gap from the start of the story, but it’s still tricky. Give the readers some context so that they know why they should care.

“Oh yeah?”

What it means

The reader doesn’t believe what you’re saying. Now while all fiction has a degree of that – it is fiction after all – the key is to, as they say, suspend disbelief. The more real everything sounds, the more they will believe what the author is saying.

How to fix it

The reader has to have faith in what you’re saying. Now there is a lot of advice out there on how to suspend disbelief, but I’ll touch the subject lightly. Using coincidences to resolve conflict is a bad idea. You can use them to initiate conflict, but never to resolve them. Having characters act out of character is another one. Stay true to the characters rather than the plot. If something seems hard to swallow, don’t leave it. Put something in earlier to make it more believable (e.g. putting a gun in the description of the mantelpiece in the first chapter so that you can use it to kill the villain in the final one) or change your plot to be more believable.

These three questions should be kept in mind especially when revising. Getting a beta reader to point them out would be useful. OSC himself said that any rule can be broken, so obviously, none of these are necessarily indicators of problems. It’s just useful if you wonder where the fault lies.

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The Companion of Wisdom

Patience is a virtue, they always say. (They who? I don’t know. They them. Them they. Whoever that may be.) Is it? A virtue, I mean? Specifically for writers, I would say yes. For a writer to have patience is key to success. In what ways? In these:

Writing the first draft

In general, the first draft is crap. Most people will agree (except for those who polish as they go). So while you’re writing and you think, “This is crap”, you have to have patience. Good writing takes a long time to achieve. You need to push through the bad, and do so patiently, then get to the good.

The ending

I, for one, suck at endings. Maybe there are some others that have the same problem. I remember reading somewhere (I can’t remember where, sorry) that the ending is more often bad than the beginning, because people put enormous time and effort into thinking up the beginning, but only a few moments for the end. In other words, you have to have patience to think through your ending. Don’t rush to it. Don’t start running sloppy* just because you see the finish line (or is that finishing line?).

Revision

When you finished the first draft (which sucks; see first point), you want to revise it so it looks shiny. However, most people (contradict me if you disagree with this), say that you should wait a bit before revising it. Something about you not being objective and you reading it the way you intended it to look instead of the way it actually looks. Bottom line, you need to let it simmer before you can revise well. Thus, you need patience to let the draft cool down before working on it again.

Shipping your product

Last, and most obvious, don’t send your manuscript to potential publishers/agents/self-publish print places before it is ready. Revise and revise until you get everything right. Get beta readers and interrogate them until they tell you what’s wrong and revise. Ergo, have the patience to keep your baby (that would be your manuscript for those of you who are less metaphorically inclined) to yourself (and your beta readers, obviously) as long as it is not ready. Ship when it’s ready, but not before.

Patience is important. If you don’t have it, learn it. Grow a plant from its seed. It sort of teaches you that there are some things you can’t rush. (I stole that idea from C. Hope Clark)

Trivia : This post was inspired by standing in a queue. In the sun. In South Africa. (It’s as if we have our own, special, extra hot sun) Not so much fun. But it’s over now.

* I actually have no idea what it means to run sloppy. I’m not good at sport metaphors.

Patience? Yes? No? Anything you want to add? Feel free to comment.

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