If you ever get the chance, you should read through interviews with published writers. Particularly fiction writers, but I'll bet you find many of the same things elsewhere in the business. Barring that, read the introductions and Forewords that are fairly prevalent in newer editions. Making sure to account for King's idea that much of what writers say about their own work is bullshit (confidently referred to as King's Bullshit Rule), pay special attention to what they have to say about their process, both with writing and editing. The results, I think, are fascinating.
I've been reading interviews with fantasy giant Brandon Sanderson lately. On top of having a fair amount of success with his own work (which involves stand alone novels as well as the genre mandatory sprawling epics) he's finishing Robert Jordan's Wheel of Time series, which is among my all-time favorites. I've noticed that he isn't shy about admitting his faults and limitations, but he does so in such a matter-of-fact way that it's almost endearing. He's also very open about his process, which I think is rather refreshing. So many writers surround themselves with this air of mystery and aloofness that it becomes tiresome to think of them as people. Which, I suppose, is the entire point.
Sanderson, though, comes off as a very genuine man who loves what he does for a living. He's also experienced and and confident, which is good to see in a younger writer.
What I found most interesting (indeed, what I want this whole piece to be about) is the idea of changing things in drafts. I've always heard of writers moving scenes around, changing, adding and eliminating whole chapters or storylines or characters. It frightened me, because it seemed to at odds with that air of mystery I mentioned earlier. That idea that a story is a natural thing, a living, organic thing that the writer pulls from the ether fully formed.
I always envisioned the editing process as fixing minor mistakes and typos caused by the fingers being unable to move as quickly as the mind works. The reality is much more mundane.
Writing, like any craft, takes time. Time to hone and practice, to sharpen the necessary skills. Someday, perhaps, your first draft will be nearly perfect. You won't be so concerned with what works and what doesn't because you'll be practiced enough to decide that in the initial writing. Maybe you already are, but I doubt it. I thought I was, honestly, and I was wrong.
In editing Eve I've found that entire sections need to be expanded to fit the story, others need to be set aside because, frankly, they don't work. I've got a solid idea that four or five chapters need to be moved around, swapped out, and tweaked until the story flows coherently. I'm doing all of those things I once found so terrifying, and it feels natural.
See, the story does come from the ether. The muse. The Jesus. Wherever. You are unearthing it, coalescing it, unraveling it. And sometimes, the fingers work faster than the mind. When you're so excited about something you just need to let it spill out, sometimes you forget details. You misinterpret things. You leave out the bits that come to mind later and focus on the raw creation.
That's what I did, and it felt great. Now, as I'm going back to fill in those things, I find that the parts I left out are as wonderful to explore as the ones that poured out of me the first time around. I've always loved the story of Rythe and his friends fighting to keep Khilanth from succumbing to darkness. Now, as I delve even deeper into that world and see where things can be changed, I'm even more enamored with it.
I think that's the key to revision. If you're doing it right, it can be frustrating and aggravating, sure. All work can be that. But if you're doing it right, you'll fall in love with the story all over again and this time, it won't be some passing affection. This is real love.
And if you don't love your creations, what's the point?
Yours,
-S.R.
No comments:
Post a Comment