Revision & Madness
Surviving the mess you've made
I got a letter from a reader that hit me at just the right moment—
Hi Catherine
I’m wondering if there are tools/tricks/practices/attitudes that can help a writer who has written version X* of the novel, it’s in decent shape but not good enough. I received feedback that was mixed, both promising and also lacking, from an agent at a writing conference. Then I met with my writing group (very important to me, they have been supportive). They shared feedback, mostly positive and also containing numerous notes about things to consider doing to improve the work. My idea is to just take things one by one -- not everything but the points that resonate with me -- and work and work to improve the story. To do so with the knowledge that it won’t be perfect but maybe just maybe there will be others who will enjoy reading it later.
So I’m wondering if as a someone I admire who has written several books and is committed to a creative life, you have any words to share; maybe there are others in the community you’re building who face a similar challenge.
thanks
Michael
* X= 10 but really I’ve lost count and it doesn’t matter. I want to create something that makes sense, that makes people feel something, sad, funny, other stuff too.
Dear Michael & anyone else who is trying to revise something as monstrous as a novel,
First of all— yes, revision is often the most discouraging (as well as confusing, dislocating, and depressing) part of the writing process. You have to forget about almost everything that excited you about the story and see the novel as a machine that is either functioning or not functioning. Self-doubt abounds.
However, you might also discover some sincere joy and satisfaction in revising; when you find a solution that you’ve been seeking for months or years, it’s arguably even more exciting than any of those early days, all that first draft high you might have had.
I happen to love the long term commitment of writing novels. I love that it’s a slow and inefficient process, that it takes years of regular, sometimes repetitive labor. I love that the book that I end up writing differs from what I set out to write, and that the novel accrues layers I wouldn’t have been able to foresee at the start.
That said, a serious revision of a novel is a grappling with the shadow side of the work. Everything you might have had to ignore or fail to notice to get the first draft out will be on the table as you revise and honestly this is sometimes quietly humiliating. Most people stop here.
Whatever belief you might have in your ability to control and manage the process has to be thrown out. Slowness can sometimes feel like stasis, or even madness, so your patience will be critical, and even in your strongest patience yet you may still wonder: Are you revising your novel, or are you going quietly nuts? Is your novel an act of generosity you might give to others, or is it simply not functioning?
I’ve already written about starting a novel, working on a novel, about the various tools you might use when you feel stuck in a novel, and several other aspects of getting through a big process, but it’s interesting to me that you ask about revision this particular month.
I’ve just started a big structural revision of a novel, and as usual I’m often feeling daunted by the task. Though this will be my fifth novel, and my eighth book, I still needed to remind myself how I’ve ever been able to do this. The few writers I’ve known who find this life straightforward and easy are just pretty boring as artists; they tend to be stuck on a single setting and resist change.1
Anyway— here’s a list of strategies that have helped me in the past and I hope will keep helping me now—