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Revision And Self-Editing Page 20
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If you stay true to your own awe, your books can't help but be charged with meaning.
But remember, your book has to be readable above all.
Albert I. "Buzz" Bezzerides was a novelist and screenwriter, perhaps best known for his script for the ultimate film noir, Kiss Me Deadly. The plot centers around a valise that has something, well, deadly in it.
For years, French film critics and other academics talked about the layer upon layer of thematic significance in the film.
Later in life, the cantankerous Bezzerides remarked:
People ask me about the hidden meanings in the script, about the A-bomb, about McCarthyism, what does the poetry mean, and so on. And I can only say that I didn't think about it when I wrote it... I was having fun with it. I wanted to make every scene, every character, interesting... I was having fun.
Write with meaning, but don't forget to make every scene, every character interesting. And try to have fun.
WATCH THE LECTURING
Beware the dreaded lecture.
A lecture is really the writer telling the reader what the story is all about. The writer may do this in narrative, which is the worst, because it is author Intrusion right into the story.
This was done quite often in Victorian literature. And so, gentle reader, Tom learned the hard lesson that crime pays, but only in small increments.
Today, writers will more often try to stick the lecture into a character's mouth. Instead of a lecture on what youth is like, put the words into the mouth of drunken doctor finally unloading his pain, as Paddy Chayefsky does in The Hospital (the character of Dr. Bock, played by George C. Scott):
I've got a son, twenty-three. I threw him out of the house last year. Pietistic little humbug. He preached universal love and despised everyone. He had a blanket contempt for the middle class, even its decencies.
KEY POINTS
• Often a theme only emerges for the writer after the first draft is done.
• Weave your theme using the various elements of the craft.
• Don't be preachy.
• Make sure the characters are real, that they believe in what they're doing, even the opposition characters. Justify all of their actions.
Many of us hated "theme" exercises in literature class. Maybe this is because there's so much debate about themes. Critics often disagree about a book's meaning. It's the toughest part of fiction to nail.
Reread some favorite novels looking for thematic elements. Because you've read the book before, skim over the plot. See if you can identify where the author indicates a larger meaning, or view of the world.
Underline these sections and study the technique used.
Have one of your characters make a speech about what's going on in the plot. Make it a long, run-on, stream-of-consciousness oration. Don't interrupt. Let her be preachy if she wants to.
This is only an exercise.
The speech can run as long as you want it to. Make it no less than 500 words. Have the character reflect on not only what's happening, but on what she thinks about what's happening.
When you're done, you may be surprised that you've actually learned something from the character. This may be your theme, or one that you want to incorporate.
While we discourage the use of long speeches in fiction these days, you may find a place in your book for this character to use some, if not all, of what she has just said.
Remember always to weave it in.
Go through your manuscript and highlight, or make a list of, the prominent objects of the setting you mention.
Brainstorm ways in which those objects can become symbols for something your Lead character believes.
Choose one and heighten it slightly by:
describing it more vividly in the scene repeating it later in the story, in a subtle way
[ A PHILOSOPHY OF REVISION ]
It is said that Michelangelo, when asked how he had sculpted his masterpiece, David, replied, "I looked at the stone and removed all that was not David."
Not a bad description of the novel revision process. From the mass of words you have created, you'll take away all that is not your novel. You'll chisel and add, touch up, and cut, but in the end what you want is your story in its purest form.
And only you can decide what form that will be. Depending on the writer, you'll get different answers to what rewriting is, such as:
Rewriting is hell. Rewriting is fun.
Rewriting is dull, because all the delight was in the creation. Rewriting is like getting to take a final exam again, only open book and with your old answer sheet for reference.
And so on. What all writers do agree on (or at least 99 percent of them) is that rewriting is essential to the production of a great novel.
Submitting a novel without rewriting is like playing ice hockey naked. You're just not equipped to put your best, um, face on things. And sooner rather than later a well-placed puck is going to hit you where it hurts most.
That puck is the editor's or agent's built-in prejudice against weak material. They are tuned to say No. That's why you rewrite. You want to take out all those No reasons.
HOW TO USE THIS SECTION
This section can be used in a number of ways.
If you've got a manuscript you want to revise right away, skip to chapter sixteen, "The Ultimate Revision Checklist," and dive right in.
If there's a specific part of your novel that isn't working, and you're not sure why, concentrate on that area.
Perhaps you're in the middle of a project and have come to one of those spots where you feel lost and unsure what to do next. Skimming through this section can lead you to a possible solution.
Ernest Hemingway was absolutely correct when he said that every writer needs a "built-in, shock-proof, manure detector." Ernest actually used a pithier term, but his point is what matters: Writers need the ability to evaluate the quality of their own writing. Writers lacking such equipment make two kinds of mistakes—both equally destructive. On the one hand, they may conclude that their initial drafts are ready to be published. And so, they don't do the rewriting and fine-tuning that is an essential part of the writing process. On the other hand, they may never be happy with what they've written. They fall into the trap of endlessly rewriting their words, thus never finishing anything they begin. The best way I know to develop a well-balanced "quality detector" is to read lots of books with an eye toward understanding what each writer was trying to accomplish. In time, you become increasingly able to judge your own words.
—Ron Benrey
HOW I LEARNED TO BE A HAPPY REWRITER
Writing a novel is like falling in love. You begin with the chemistry, the spark of an idea. You ask it out and get acquainted. A kiss at the end of the evening fills you with hope and desire. You start whistling "Younger Than Springtime."
You jump in and write. The early pages appear quickly. You're discovering your novel as you write, caught up in the fragrance of creation.
At some point you pop the question and your novel says Yes. You're married to it now. The commitment has begun.
Then some problems surface. Bad breath in the morning. Crankiness. A shouting match. What happened to the bloom?
You begin to doubt. But you've made the commitment, so you are determined to work things out.
When you do, your marriage comes back stronger. So you start raising a family of future manuscripts.
Revision is like the counseling process that renders a better relationship.
THE LONG VIEW
Studies of successful people in various professions have identified several factors that top performers share. One of the most important of these is the long view.
It isn't the get-rich-quick artists who succeed, but those who know that ultimate success involves a long curve of learning, working, failure, trying again, patience, and perseverance.
Doctors train for years before they get to practice. They know going in that there's a long road ahead. But for
the ultimate prize, they make the sacrifice. Those who build businesses, unless they're the latest dotcom darlings, must work long and hard in the early years. But the payoff is worth it.
As a serious novelist you need to approach your craft with the same view. If you want your book to be the best it can be, it's going to take work. And you won't get it right the first time.
I wrote my first screenplay like a puppy in a meat market. Excited, running as fast as I could, filled with wonder and hope. As I wrote, I thought, This is so easy. I'm having so much fun it must be good.
I showed it to a contact I had in the movie business. A week later she called me. Her first words were, "You don't have it."
My tail went between my legs. Did she mean I didn't have what it took? No talent? Fuggetaboutit?
No, that wasn't it. She explained that I didn't have it on the page. That I had a lot more learning to do.
Which reminded me of some advice I'd received from Darryl Ponicsan, author of The Last Detail. I wrote him when I was in college and asked him for advice on becoming a writer. "Guard your character," he wrote back. "If you've got nothing in you, you've got nothing to give. Be prepared for an apprenticeship of years."
That's right. Take the long view, and learn to see revision as a friend. Being a smart, disciplined reviser delivers a number of benefits:
• It makes you a better writer. With each revision session you learn more about your craft, and the next time you write you'll write stronger.
• It marks you as a professional. Editors and agents who see your work ethic will be more certain of your ability to produce good books.
• It builds confidence and encourages you to stretch your horizons.
• It is its own reward. When you've put in good, solid revision time, you rest easier at the end of the day. Like a gardener who has pulled an abundance of weeds, you can go to sleep knowing the garden is that much healthier.
So here are your gardening tools. Let's get dirty.
THE MENTAL GAME
Somebody once asked Robert Mitchum what he looked for in a script. "Days off," he said.
I always thought that was funny, maybe half a cup full of truth. Mitchum never let on that he worked hard at acting or took the whole thing too seriously. He seemed to be bemused by his stardom. How could he get paid for doing this? And be world famous besides?
But I also suspect Mitchum did take his craft more seriously than he cared to admit. I know that because I've seen Ryan's Daughter.
That movie was a critical and commercial failure, a little story that David Lean tried to turn into an epic. It has some of the most beautiful cinematography ever put on film and a haunting score by Maurice Jarre.
But things just didn't click this time, and Lean only made one other film the rest of his career.
I saw it when it first came out and felt the same way as the critics. When it came out on DVD I decided to give it one more try. David Lean was one of the great directors—there will never be another Lawrence of Arabia because there will never be (1) another Peter O'Toole, and (2) all camels and exotic locations will be done via computer graphics in the future—and he deserved another look.
The movie was better this time, though still not great. The great part was Robert Mitchum.
He played against type, a shy schoolteacher who somehow got a hunky body. The young Rose (Sarah Miles) has schoolgirl fantasies about him and gets him to marry her, only to find out he's not the physical pleasure center she thought he'd be.
Which leads to adultery, which leads to disaster, which leads to misery for Robert Mitchum.
Who was superb. Who should have been nominated for an Oscar. So the actor who liked his days off was also truly committed to his craft.
That's how you should feel about writing. Enjoy the playfulness of creativity (and the occasional day off). But also take the craft seriously. Keep getting better at what you do.
So there's an element of play and an element of work that goes into this writing life.
A FEW TIPS AND REMINDERS
It's a great feeling to be confident in your ability to solve manuscript problems. You will, if you continue to study the craft all your life. I still read books on writing because I'll either learn something new or get a fresh angle on a useful technique.
Here are a few things I try to keep in mind when I'm about to revise.
It's Like Taking the Final Again ... With the Answers and an Open Book
In my first semester of law school I took a philosophy of law class. I knew the material cold. So cold, I was approached by a struggling student who wanted me to help her study for the final.
The night before the exam I had a dream about how to approach the test. I wouldn't do it in the standard, boring fashion; I'd do it in storytelling form. It was a bold and risky move. And it got me a seventy-seven. Apparently the professor was not a storytelling fan. And what of the woman I helped to study? She got the highest grade in the class.
Thank you very much. This is why writing is better than school finals. Because after you finish your first draft you don't have to turn it in. You get to go over it again, changing the answers you know are wrong, and using resources (like this book) to help. Be thankful for small favors.
Don't Hold on Too Tight...
Quite often you will find your novel changing slightly, or even significantly, as you revise. Don't let that spook you. During the revision process you need to give your novel room to breathe. Be willing to let it.
But Don't Be Afraid to Work Through Your Plan
Resist the temptation to throw everything out unless it is the only conceivable thing to do. It's not the only conceivable thing to do if it's your first read through. You may think your manuscript stinks. Maybe it does. That's okay. Most writers understand that first drafts often stink to high heaven, or at least to a high ceiling. It will get better.
Know Thyself
F. Scott Fitzgerald once said there are two kinds of writers: taker-outters and putter-inners. Some writers like to write a lean first draft, sometimes leaving out whole sections of description or the transition, and then add to the manuscript during the revision stage. These are putter-inners.
Other writers prefer to write and write and write that first draft, to put everything in they can think of and only worry about cutting back later.
Either approach will work, but usually the writer will feel more comfortable doing one or the other.
Are you the sort of writer who is anxious to get the manuscript finished as quickly as possible? You may be a putter-inner. Are you a writer who likes to discover the story as you go along, following different tangents as they arise? Then you are probably a taker-outter.
Think about it and prepare yourself accordingly for the task to follow.
Set Up a Reward System
If it's good enough for General Electric, it should be good enough for one measly writer. GE rose to prominence under Jack Welch, who loved to create little celebrations to energize his organization. He empowered his managers to look for creative ways to celebrate even the smallest victories. "Business has to be fun," he says.
Writing has to be fun, too. So look for ways to celebrate the things you do. Revision is the sleeves-rolled-up, tough work of the professional writer. When you're done and the manuscript is finally ready to send off, you'll feel
great. You deserve a reward. A deadline with a reward attached will get you closer to publication than almost anything else.
My favorite things to do after completing a project:
• Take my wife to an especially nice restaurant.
• Go to a movie matinee by myself and eat an entire box of Raisinets.
• Treat myself to a hardcover I've been salivating over.
Make a list of your favorite things and use them as incentives to get your work done.
Stay Healthy
The imagination is housed in the brain. The brain is housed in the body. The body is the temple of the soul. Treat it as
such.
Your productivity and creativity improve with the care of your body. Take the long-term view.
The brisk walk is an easy way to start, and with a tape or MP3 player you can multitask. I listen to novels so I'm studying the craft as I walk. I make a little commitment to myself: I can't finish a tape unless I'm walking. That forces me to exercise because I want to know how the story turns out!
The history of literature is littered with geniuses who squandered their gifts through the bottle, drugs, or simple neglect. You've only got one writing life. Make the most of it.
George Bernard Shaw wrote more than fifty plays and was working on another when he died at age ninety-four. That's the way to go.
The Secret
My favorite actor of all time is Spencer Tracy. His performances were always so realistic and natural. You never catch him "acting." Humphrey Bogart agreed. He called Tracy the best, too, because you didn't see "the wheels turning."
He was the first truly natural actor in the movies. The silent era was marked by broad expression and gesture to overcome the lack of sound. When movies started talking, stage actors came in and played as if talking to a back row.
Tracy stepped in and blew people away with his simple, natural style. When asked what his secret was, he said it was nothing more than "Be yourself and listen to the other actor."
Once, in the 1950s, he was filming a scene with a young actor who was a disciple of the new "Method" school of acting (think Marlon Brando and James Dean). This type of acting involved lots of inner preparation, brooding about to find out character motivations and the like.
Also, holding up production. At one point the actor asked the director what his motivation was for coming through a door.
Tracy had had enough. "You come through the damn door," he shouted, "because it's the only way to get in the damn room!"
Which only goes to show you can think this novel writing thing to death. Writers love to talk about art and theory and practice. I certainly do. But there comes a time when you just have to keep writing because it's the only way to finish the book.