Category: Revision & Editing

The Best Part of Collaboration

Our mission to slenderize the Music Novel is going great. We’re about a third of the way through the manuscript and well over halfway to our goal for cuts. We haven’t set a revised target number of words to remove, just agreed that we won’t stop editing upon reaching the original objective.

It’s going well, but it isn’t going fast. It sometimes takes several looks at a page before the extra words start flashing in red. It’s not always just “yoink!” — sometimes sentences need to be restructured or synonyms need to be found.

The biggest time-sink, though, is syncing up all our changes. It never feels like it should take all that long, because few of the edits are controversial in any way. But it can take as long to convey the edits between us as it took to do them in the first place.

We could certainly speed that up. Using the export features in Scrivener allows us to swap edited nodes in seconds.

But that big source of delay is also the best thing about writing together as a team — talking to each other about the text. Walking each other through the process we used to streamline a paragraph or the rationale for cutting one altogether. Even though few of those conversations involve any disagreement, it’s good to be able to talk shop with a fellow writer.

So, we won’t be utilizing all available technologies to bolster our productivity metrics. We’d give up too much in the process.

Sweeping Up the Verbal Dust Bunnies

r-avatarRevisions of the Music Novel have reached the next stage, which is the always painful make-the-damn-thing-shorter stage. Jen embarked on that task while Kent finished up a few straggling critique comments, and now we’re both on the hunt for excess verbiage.

We won’t belabor the challenges of killing our darlings, or debate optimum word counts. The book will be better when it’s shorter, period. A concise telling produces a more concentrated experience.

So, much as we’d love to make excuses and not make cuts, this is where we are.

Jen’s head start on the winnowing meant we had a choice about where Kent would jump in. There being two of us, this is potentially a chance to get something done in half the time by divvying it up. However, so far we’re not doing it that way. Kent started at the top, hitting stuff Jen had already been through.

Initially we assumed this would be a sort of gut-check only, but Kent was able to find an appreciable number of extra words still in the first chapter so we’re going to keep moving in this manner until we run into a reason not to. Although unexpected, the outcome does make sense. The first editor takes care of the bulky stuff, exposing the next layer for her partner. Like moving the sofa out of the way to sweep behind it.

Efficient teamwork isn’t always about maximizing bandwidth. Sometimes an approach that looks redundant at a glance can turn out to produce much stronger results and save you time in the long run.

That Barely Hurt A Bit

r-avatarWe have a large pile of marked-up pages from taking the Music Novel through our critique group, and we mentioned recently that the process of digesting all that input is something we find cumbersome. Happily, it turned out that a fairly simple workflow adjustment made things go very smoothly for us this time, so all of that valuable input is now added to our Scrivener project as comments. We’ve even made significant headway on addressing it.

What was this radical innovation in critique-copy processing? We ran it in parallel rather than in series. Instead of picking up a single review copy and going all the way through it, then doing that with the next one on the pile, and so on, we grabbed all the copies of a chapter and spread them on the ottoman at once (where we had room to turn all their pages — the auxiliary writing cave has a big ottoman). Not only was it more efficient mechanically, but it allowed us to compare the notes immediately when different readers commented about the same thing.

If, on some future occasion, we devise a more interesting solution to this issue you’ll certainly read about it here. But for now, simple is best.

Play it Again, Rune

r-avatarWe mentioned that we would be revisiting the Music Novel to compile the critique comments. That has indeed begun, but before we did that we elected to do a complete read-through in order to start forming our own game plan for what needs to be done. And in saying, “we elected to do a complete read through,” what we mean is, “Jen made Kent read the entire manuscript to her.” (He didn’t mind, even though after a few nights his voice got very tired.)

Happily, our recent spring cleaning (it is, after all, a leap year ending in 6) meant we could get all the critique copies of the Music Novel organized so that the next phase will be as efficient as possible. Collating input from our group is one of the few stages of our process that we haven’t been able to optimize. It’s just inherently cumbersome. But we have some ideas for stuff to try this time, so it doesn’t take us a month to sift through it all.

It’s very interesting to return to this work after writing and outlining so much other stuff. It feels partly like a homecoming, seeing again all our familiar characters and getting into a groove with the story we know by heart. At the same time we now see things in it that were hidden to us before, which is exactly why we make a practice of laying things aside for a while. This way when we make edits, they’ll go deeper. The end result will be stronger.

Writing with a partner means there’s someone to share the note-taking as you mine the critique pile for gold, and if you’re lucky it means there’s someone who will read to you.

At The Risk of Sounding Immodest

r-avatarAs we close in on the official completion of the first draft for Son of Music Novel, we’re jumping around in the manuscript to take care of miscellaneous things we’ve made notes about over the course of getting here. It’s a shift in perspective, giving us a more longitudinal view of the work in a way that even the read-through didn’t.

And it’s really, really cool.

Probably the most common phrase in the writing cave these days is, “Oh, we are good!” The prompt for such exclamations could be a bit of clever foreshadowing, or imagery that amplifies theme, or a character whose depravity manages to shock us anew every time.

There are different philosophies about how an author should feel about his or her own work. Some say it’s important to love your art, and others say it should sicken you. Our process really wouldn’t work if we didn’t love what we create. Of course we need to achieve critical distance and make the tough calls about what to cut, but that’s why we build in a resting period as part of that process.

Anyway, we love this book. We think other people will too.

When the Time is Right

r-avatarThe first draft of Son of Music Novel is 99% done. (Amazing how the last couple of percentage points take so much  longer to complete!) Soon we’ll be ready to start taking it to critique group, which is very exciting. We’re really looking forward to getting input from a bunch of very smart fellow writers.

This time out we’re following the same policy we had great success with on the Science Novel: waiting until the draft is entirely written and the known issues are dealt with before taking it in. That allows us to keep input in perspective because we can weigh comments against what we know about how the various arcs ultimately play out. Sometimes it’s a good thing if readers get pissed off! The fun is in watching them take the ride.

Certainly, there are other ways to manage critique. Past experience has taught us to prefer this method. The Music Novel itself is a case in point. With that one, we started taking it to group when we hit approximately the halfway mark. That was intended to give us time to reach the end before our critiquers caught up, and in that regard it worked fine. Thing is, we then did a major restructuring that rendered much of the original input moot. Fortunately, by the time the second version was ready we had new critique group members available, meaning there were unspoiled readers by whom we could gauge the success of our changes. It’s very hard to look at successive drafts as if for the first time.

In the primordial phase of our fictive endeavors, when crude stick-figure drawings of mammoth hunters first appeared on the walls of the writing cave, we used to take stuff in whenever we had stuff. Often this meant a new chapter would go through group before we’d even written the next one. The drive to produce something so you can take it in is a plus, but we ran into some serious downsides. Premature input can be very distracting. Even with an outline telling you, broadly, where things end up, it’s easy to fall into trying to “fix” your critiquers’ attitudes about particular characters or events. You might even be talked into departing from your carefully planned outline.

Talking to your critique group about a work in progress can lead to inspiration. Critique’s a collaborative process, after all. Knowing that other people are taking your story to heart, investing energy in understanding it, is very motivating. Depending on your process, you might thrive on the in-the-moment feedback, or even depend on the influx of ideas that arise in discussion.

Are you in a critique group? (You should be.) How do you get the most out of it? What works best with your style?

Time to Pop Some Champagne!

r-avatarSo hey! Guess what! The first draft is complete!

Kent wrapped up the last of the scenes that needed to be written, not to be confused with the last scene in the story, which Jen had already done by then. The book’s a beast and a half, and it’s done. We feel really good about it, very proud of what we’ve accomplished. Rune Skelley isn’t anybody’s idea of a fast writer, but the books are taking us less time to create as we get more practice and our process becomes second nature.

Okay, okay. It’s not done done. As with its predecessor, this book has a meta-narrative running throughout, and that’s not all done. And it doesn’t make sense to push onward with that part until we’ve done a read-through, so that’s the next step. Normally we like to let manuscripts rest before the first read-through, but in this case we don’t want to spin up any new projects yet. So, right back in.

Which means maybe that cork should stay in the bottle just a little longer. No point doing the reading if we won’t remember it tomorrow.

Two Brains Are Better Than One

r-avatarSo we’re motoring right along, finishing scenes at a healthy clip, when Jen suddenly pulls the handle on the emergency brake and we come clattering to a halt. The problem? Oh, only a fairly significant plot hole. Nothing major.

It wasn’t as bad as “plot hole” might make it sound. We knew where the characters were, and we knew where they were going to end up, and here in the writing cave we knew that it would work just fine. But on the page we left a couple of steps out of the journey and someone was bound to notice. Luckily for us (this time) it was Jen that did the noticing, which gave us the opportunity to backtrack a little bit and throw in some road signs to help the reader understand how the characters end up in the right place.

Having a writing partner is a distinct advantage. Our problem would have been harder to fix if it hadn’t been discovered until the draft was finished and in the hands of test readers. Or even worse, what if it managed to sneak through the whole editorial process only to snag paying customers?

As authors it’s our job to make the story world feel as real as possible, and it’s a job that’s a lot easier to do when you have access to two brains.

Knowing Which Wrench to Use

r-avatarLast week we introduced you to the goose wrench. Now it’s time to mention the other handy wrench you should keep, er, handy: the monkey wrench. Although the term is often negative, it’s an indispensable implement for creative problem-solving.

Here’s the TL;DR: if a writer has too many problems, it’s usually because the characters don’t have enough.

The monkey wrench is versatile. It can be applied delicately, to unravel things just a little bit. Or it can be wielded like a club, or tossed into the gears. But remember to show moderation in all things, especially excess. Unlike the goose wrench, it’s not your own process that the monkey wrench should be swung at. It’s your characters’. You’re not trying to seize up the plot, so pay some attention to which sets of gears you’re aiming for. Story thrives on conflict. When things for your cast are going a little too smoothly, when your protagonist becomes complacent or settles into a rut, that’s the time to break out the monkey wrench.

Keep both wrenches available. Story structure is too loosey-goosey? Grab that goose wrench. When things go flat, reach for the monkey wrench. Just make sure they’re clearly labeled, because using the wrong one will only make a writer’s problems worse.

Unlocking the Door Versus Finding the Key

r-avatarOur plots are complex. We strive to get our readers following the flow and being invested in the characters, but we don’t agonize over whether they can recite back all the beats. It’s nice to see people getting most of them, though. We’re not monsters.

In the reader feedback for the third book in our trilogy, we saw a clear trend that certain specific events got away from people. Characters end up making choices based on things that were opaque to most of our audience, which is the same thing as characters just doing crazy stuff without any apparent motivation. Not good. Jen and Kent agreed about where the trouble was, and agreed that it was something that really needed fixing.

The comments came up fairly late in the manuscript, but clearly the place to deal with the problem was earlier. The topic should also be revisited a few times, letting different characters’ impressions shape what the readers learn, so later on it’s just something they know and it doesn’t need bulky explanations. Again, Kent and Jen were in total agreement on all of this.

So we started talking specifics and suddenly were talking past each other. There was a major disconnect in how we were viewing the problem, of which we had hitherto been unaware. It was frustrating as hell and it took a while to diagnose why communicating about this issue had suddenly become so difficult. We threw metaphors at each other until we finally got it sorted out.

There were actually two issues.

Basically, the characters need to unlock a special (and very complicated) door. The readers were asking “what’s this supposed to do?” Whereas Kent perceived their confusion as relating to how the key works, Jen saw them being puzzled over the purpose of getting the door open. When we launched into our discussion of “the” issue, we each jumped directly to how we wanted to address it, assuming we were in agreement about what “it” was, so naturally our suggestions made no sense to each other.

In the end, it was a case of two heads being better than one. Together, we were seeing twice as much opportunity to enrich the experience of the story. Along the way, it was a case of the left hand not knowing what the right was talking about. Working in a partnership can offer fantastic advantages, but it adds complexity by requiring communication. A good partner will stick with the discussion.