What happens next…

The first draft of Breaking Bread is done. Finally… Now begins the re-reading, re-writing, editing, correcting and proof reading part of novel writing. Why list all those tasks separately? Don’t they all fall under the umbrella of editing? Yes, but… Mind you, this is my own process –it’s nothing official. Most of what I do to write and edit a piece is entirely instinctual. Occasionally, there is an academic name for it and if I am lucky, my approach is valid!

Re-reading: It’s just what it says. I read the whole thing through non-stop to see how it sounds/feels as a complete work. I read it the way a reader who purchased a copy would read it. This shows up sections that drag, over-explain, or alternatively, move too quickly and need to be expanded upon. I don’t usually make changes at this stage, but I make notes on what to do.

Re-writing: Now I make the adjustments based on my notes. There will inevitably be parts that need major overhauling. Besides the parts that are awkward, boring, or somehow don’t make sense with the flow of the narrative, sometimes you simply change your mind. As was the case in this novel, I changed my mind about the villain. I dropped some clues along the way that need to be swept out of the story. (Actually I have a really horrifying alternate ending that I might share with you at some point. And no it was never the mom… it was Caitlyn). I also am taking into consideration some of the feedback I received here on my blog. As many of you expressed, the idea of a sister doing such terrible things is just unbelievable. I softened that aspect of the story accordingly. (My alternative was even worse… now you really want to hear it, don’t you?)

Editing: After sections have been rewritten, there is an extreme likelihood of error. What I mean is, you may have started with scenario A, rewritten it as scenario B and forgotten to change all or parts of a conversation, for example. Your rewrites will have an impact on later sections of the story and they will need to be altered accordingly. The timeline might be a bit off. A different character might have to speak words you intended for another, and so forth. So this is like rewriting redux but not as exhaustive.

Correcting: This is another re-read but this time out loud. (Actually I do that on all the previous trips through, but….) I read the book as if I were recording it for audio-book. This shows up awkward sentence structure and repetitive sounds. Sometimes, things look great on paper but when you read them aloud they sound terrible. I’ve crafted what I thought were lovely paragraphs describing a scene that when read aloud sounded pompous and overblown. Here’s the chance to fix those before you hit publish. Finally, I check that dialogue is natural sounding and not stiff or too formal.

Proof reading: At this stage you are checking for correct punctuation, grammar and spelling. And yes of course, the spell checker on your word processing program has been doing that all along, however… it cannot tell you when a correctly spelled word is being used the wrong way: it’s as opposed to its, their, they’re and there, from versus than, a/an, etc. I know there are programs out there that are designed to do that and frankly, I don’t trust them enough not to have a look for myself. I check all my proper names to make sure I’ve spelled them consistently.

After all this, I may read one final time. I have set the limit on my self-editing process at five times. Sometimes you just have to walk away. The next step is to pass off the manuscript to beta readers – people who will read and give not just praise but constructive criticism so that you can make changes based on their honest feedback. I have greatly appreciated all of your wonderful input on the story this time around. You are my alpha readers – reading the raw first draft as I wrote it, and for that I am very thankful. Nevertheless, my team of betas is standing by for further analysis. When they have finished, and given me their opinions, I will make further modifications and then it goes onto my professional editor for a final analysis before prepping it to publish. Whew….

Now… what to do next?

The Novelist’s Pen

“The novel, if I may express it so, is the ‘picture of the manners of every age’. To the philosopher who seeks to know the nature of man, it is as indispensable as history. The historian’s pencil can draw a man only in his public roles, when he is not truly himself: ambition and pride cover his face with a mask which shows only these two passions and not the man entire. The novelist’s pen, on the other hand, captures his inner truth and catches him when he puts his mask aside, and the resulting sketch, which is far more interesting, is also much truer; that is the point of novels.” – Essay on Novels – The Marquis de Sade.

What a weighty responsibility lies on the shoulders of the novelist then. To capture the truth of an age, to illuminate that which history’s light does not reach. It seems terribly important, doesn’t it? I’m considering this quote from the perspective of one who is researching and writing a story out of time.

I enjoy reading historical fiction. I’m attempting to write historical fiction –a story set in the period during and around the Great War. There are many challenges in writing a story outside the time in which you are living. Of course there are plentiful books of history, analysis of the actual battles and the geopolitical situation that preceded the conflict. But how does a writer put him or herself into the mind of a person who lived through it? Peel away the mask and find the inner truth?

Wouldn’t it be great to have a time machine and go back to see for yourself? Or the next best thing –access to a person or persons who lived through it and could give you eyewitness accounts? In the case of World War One, too much time has slipped away from that massive calamity and the last veteran of the trenches passed away in 2009 at the age of 111! What about a younger member of that generation?

One way ‘generation’ is defined is by all the people whose lives crossed during a particular period of time. Thusly, a member of that ‘generation’ could be the child or younger sibling of the WWI contemporary. Such a person may be able to recount the stories told by another, or to have memories of the time in question as an aware child or adolescent (although they would be getting scarce at this point too). My own father was 7 years old when the Armistice was achieved and he remembers the church bells ringing, bringing everyone into the streets to hear the news. (Incidentally my own father also passed away in 2009 at the grand old age of 97). Nevertheless, valuable information can be gained from talking with the second hand witness.

My point is that the ‘feel’ of a time period isn’t fully realized by simply reading the history books. I find it supremely insightful that the Marquis refers to ‘the historian’s pencil’ but the ‘novelist’s pen.’ The former can be erased and modified while the latter is permanent. You must delve into the arts and culture of the day. Listen to the music, peruse the art, read the popular books of fiction and poetry –there was a time when poetry was popular. If available, watch the films of the time. (Obviously some things are dependent on the advent of certain technologies). Of the things you can read, memoirs can be helpful, however, the opportunity for rationalization, embellishment or self aggrandizing is always there, so take these with a grain of salt.

For Here Lies a Soldier, I researched some material that might seem trivial or picky but I felt was important to my setting. How to clean a Victorian Era home, was one thing for example. I wasn’t about to rely on Downton Abby for my information. Another bit of research I did was on the types of homes a working family would live in –this for the other set of characters in the story. Illnesses and how they were treated, the types of food they ate, the clothing, the weather for the climate and the season –all these things tell you how the people lived.

I came across a series of War Letters in my searching for materials. This collection (available on Amazon) is of the letters of ordinary soldiers writing home to their families. I cannot wait to dig into this treasure. Imagine reading the sentiments of the common man addressing the people he loved. Some of it will be mundane, but there is even much to learned from that: What did they ask their families to send them? Warm socks, new underwear? Did they make friends? Did they pray or lose faith?

As you can imagine, I am anxious to pick up the novelist’s pen and return to Here Lies a Soldier, finish the sketch of my characters both in the past and the present. But first I must finish Breaking Bread. Onward…

 

Time Traveling

The Diary of a Writer – Meg Sorick

In the course of novel writing, there are points at which absolutely nothing of consequence is going on. That is life, is it not? When you reach one of those points in the overall plot, you do not need to record every little insignificant detail of your characters’ lives while time moves forward and the next major event occurs.

For example, in Breaking Bread, the investigation into the fire by the police, the fire department and the coroner all take some time to complete. Maya and Brad, their families and friends will be waiting around for the results of tests and the complication of clues, checks from insurance companies and so forth. I don’t need to report all of this minutiae as it happens. Instead I will scoot time ahead and as I do, summarize or infer all the things that have happened to our fictional friends along the way. You will see me doing this in the following excerpt. I have even summarized an event that I could have dragged out but chose not to for the sake of keeping to the main story. You will see what I mean.

The time traveling needs to transition smoothly, however, so the reader doesn’t feel like the story came to a screeching halt and then raced forward again. Thus, the bridging piece needs to be just the right length with the just the right amount of information included. I dithered over this next excerpt for that very reason. (Thus the delay.) I wrote and deleted, wrote and deleted scene after scene. Do I take Brad shopping for new clothes? Do I write about him figuring out where to live? Do I show Leo and Olivia moving into their new house so that Brad can have Leo’s apartment? What is Maya going to do for work? We need to know those things but they aren’t crucial to the plot. I left them out.

What about Maya having conversations with her parents and Michael to piece together what Tanya was up to? That is crucial to the plot but I decided they weren’t ready for it yet. My conclusion was to proceed ahead, adding in a detail as it needs to be explained. For example, a single sentence can let the reader know that Brad has moved into Leo’s apartment. We can assume he shopped for new clothes –he has no choice– but you don’t need to hear what he bought.

Other details can be revealed in passing or within conversation. For example, Maya and Brad can have a discussion/argument over him buying a new building and she tells him she’s going to ask for her old job back at the Philadelphia hotel. A lot of information gets revealed in a short amount of time.

And so… we time travel forward a couple of weeks to the funeral.

Header Image: The Time Machine film 1960 starring Rod Taylor and based on the story by HG Wells.