Photo © 2008 Ed Yourdon CC BY-SA 2.0

A number of people who follow this blog not only enjoy reading, but also write. In general, I’m finding that a good number of the people who participate in online reading groups are also writers. Some are published writers; some, freelance writers; some, indie writers; some, aspiring writers. Most of us are some combination of those.

This led me to ask a fundamental question. I’ve always assumed I knew the answer. But after considering it, now I’m thinking I’ve probably assumed too much.

The question is: Why do you write? Not just what do you hope to achieve in your writing career? But what does writing do for you? And why is that important to you?

Many writers, for example, say they’re trying to “get published.” I don’t know why they’d want that, however. In most cases, when you “get published,” you get it alright. “It” being much more work and very little money. The vast majority of titles published by third-party publishers never sell enough copies to make back the publisher’s investment.

But maybe you want to get published to satisfy a different need. Maybe you want to see your name in print. Or to be a part of the “published” insider’s club. But is that why you write? Just to be part of an insider’s club?

Or are there other reasons?

• Do you write in order to express your passion?
• Do you write in order to expand your mind and grow as a person?
• Do you write in order to give enjoyment to others?
• Do you write in order to connect with other writers?
• Do you write in order to make a difference in the world?
• Do you write for the fame?
• Do you write for the money?

Me, I write, because I have passions, and I want to share my passion; because I enjoy stories, and I want to share that enjoyment; and because I want to make a difference. And because I want to become famous (which isn’t working).

(By the way, there’s no money in writing fiction.)

If you consider yourself a writer, why do you write? If you would like to consider yourself a writer, why do you write?

-TimK

Photo © 2009 Trevin Chow CC BY-NC-SA 2.0

Authors and publishers, in my opinion, spend way too much time sucking up to literary critics, which is why I decided to become a book reviewer.

Of course, no critic actually deserves the respect he gets (myself included), not for his opinion in any case. And I dare say, publishers wouldn’t give critics the time of day, were it not for the fact that bad reviews can severely hurt sales of a good book, and that good reviews can severely boost sales of a mediocre one. That’s why it’s more important to pander to the tastes and whims of the critics, than to publish books that would actually please ordinary readers.

Authors are not much better, because most authors believe, on some level, that literary critics actually know what they’re talking about. So when a critic doesn’t like the book she wrote, she believes that there’s something wrong with her, because the critic said so. Fortunately, there’s a simple antidote to this line of thinking: the 5 rules of book reviews, which I’ll get to in a moment.

Some years ago, a critic reviewed a piece of my work. He mocked and derided, not just the work, but me personally. In his opinion, I was a hack and a huckster, who couldn’t put two words together to save my life. And in his view, I should go back into the hole whence I came, only coming out after I had actually proven my value to the literary community. Moreover, he made all these pronouncements—and he plainly admitted this in his review—without reading a single word of the work in question, based solely on the back-cover blurb and other marketing materials.

It was then that I realized three things about reviewers—and this part is actually true: Firstly, they are writers in their own rights, with fans of their own. Secondly, their job is not to give an honest evaluation of your work, but to pander to their own readers’ desires and prejudices. Thirdly, if they can do so without actually reading your book, they will, and with impunity.

If I sound a little bitter at reviewers, that should tell you something about how I feel about myself (since I too write reviews, sometimes very opinionated reviews). Factor in the fact that I’m also an indie publisher who is genetically incapable of sucking up to literary critics, and you’ll finally understand why I should probably be in a mental institution.

The reason I’m not in a mental institution is because I have discovered and follow the 5 rules of book reviews, which all authors and readers alike should memorize, for the benefit of society as a whole:

1. If the reviewer gives the book one star, he’s an opinionated jackass who would have condemned Tom Sawyer for being too trite, Huckleberry Finn as too racist, and Mark Twain for having a stupid pseudonym.

2. If he gives the book two stars, he has no passion, can’t get worked up enough even to condemn the book. (Two stars is the worst rating a book can receive: at least the one-star reviewer hated it; that’s something.)

3. If he gives the book three stars, he’s saying he’d like to rate it lower, but he would feel bad about doing so; so he pads his review with tripe about the author being a good writer, even though he didn’t like this particular book and doesn’t plan to read any more books by that author if he can help it.

4. If he gives the book four stars, he’s trying to appear diplomatic, knowing that the publisher expects a 5-star rating, but also that his readers would suspect foul play if he didn’t find at least something wrong with it.

5. If he gives the book five stars, he’s probably pandering to the author’s ego, hoping that the author will in turn recommend him on her blog to her fans, or mention him in an interview, or—best yet—when he writes his book, give it five stars in return. (Some reviewers don’t even review books that they can’t rate favorably, knowing that what goes around comes around.)

So while I still read, and I still comment on and review the books that I read, I give little weight to reviews by others, knowing that they say more about the reviewer than they do about me. (And that is also actually true.)

Instead, I find books to read that I think I myself would enjoy, and to hell with what the literary critics say!

-TimK

P.S. This piece was supposed to be funny, and I guess it is, in a sardonic, “funny ’cause it’s true!” sort-of way. If you find it angry or bitter, I apologize. I’ll try to post something better next week.

P.P.S. Please also note that there are some reviewers out there who actually do give unfettered, honest opinions about the books they review, regardless of what their fans think (or whether they even have any fans). Their reviews still say more about them than about the book, but at least they’re not trying to suck up to anyone in the process.

On Technology

Top Facebook group: “I’m not yelling…I’m Italian…thats how we talk.”

Top Facebook group that someone ought to start: “Walking around naked makes me feel sexy.”

Some weeks ago, I posted “Coconut” to my Facebook status, and no one noticed. Do you know how much that hurts?

If you have to force viewers not to skip over your video ads, then you’re obviously showing them the wrong ads.

Dear spammer: How do you know that an extra inch would even fit in my pants?

Sunday afternoon is the best time to get on Twitter, because al the e-marketing gurus are off for the weekend. (Also because that’s when #writechat occurs!)

I just added more blogs to my feed reader than there were on the entire Internet a few years ago.

Another worthy domain name that should’ve been considered more carefully for ambiguity: goredforwomen.org.

On Entertainment

Star Trek is no longer a guilty pleasure of mine… Not guilty, because a lot of those stories are pretty good. The Love Boat, however, still is.

In any case, I don’t know how they make it through the galaxy in a ship as fragile as the Enterprise.

Hey! It’s Tomolok the Romulan. He’s dead now, you know. (But he’ll always be G’Kar to me.)

Ugh. Gack! Now I know that Pippi Longstocking wears green underwear. Little girls should learn to keep their knees together.

The new A-Team movie will probably be fun, but they’ll never outdo the original cast.

Happy happy cow cow! Happy happy cow cow! SING IT WITH ME! Happy happy cow cow cow. Moo! (In honor of California cows, to the tune of the “Happy Happy Joy Joy” song.)

Porky Pig just suggested to Daffy Duck that he see a speech therapist for his lisp. (Gail Bishop, of From the Ashes of Courage, would not find that funny.)

On Politics

If a CEO squanders the stockholder’s money, he goes to jail. And if a politician squanders the public’s money, he gets reelected to Congress.

Q: How do you know a politician is lying? A: His lips are moving.

We believe gravity is real only because space aliens are controlling our minds. Fortunately, the FBI and CIA can protect us from the space aliens, thus allowing us to fly. (A commentary on political logic.)

I marveled at the incentives, when I discovered that the penalties when my daughter was late for school were worse than when she was absent.

Did you know that no not even one child has ever been poisoned by Halloween candy?

On Writing

Every time someone implies that I don’t have “a job,” I should thank them for furthering my writing career.

As a writer, I always have to look up the difference between “heroin” and “heroine”: one is a drug; the other is a female protagonist.

On Life, Love, and Relationships

Having a scruffy beard is really cool, and sexy, too, except when you’re trying to lick the last of the spaghetti sauce off the plate.

The Missus has no reason to fear that I will ever cheat on her: between a wife and two daughters, there’s simply no room for any more women in my life. I honestly, seriously, don’t understand how men in polygamous cultures can emotionally support multiple wives.

Ladybugs are so cute! Except when they start swarming near the entrance to your apartment.

After we moved the goldfish bowl next to the turtle tank, the turtle kept trying to swim through the glass.

Do boogers freeze? (As a parent, you sometimes get asked questions like this.)

The plea of a stay-at-home dad: “I want a day off from being a mom.”

Photo © 2008 Ralph Bijker CC BY 2.0

One of the axioms of writing is that you should write only what you know from experience. Writers extend that to say that you really only know how to write your own sex: men write only male characters well, and women write only female characters well. That’s why, they say, practically all romance novelists are women, because most men don’t know how to write female genres, because men don’t know how women really think or what they really want.

Whether or not I know what women really want, you’ll have to judge that for yourself. Whether I know, really know, how women think… sometimes, I think I do; other times, I clearly don’t. Whether I— not just I, but whether any writer can write what he’s never experienced, he clearly can, if he understands what he’s writing and can imagine it.

When it comes to their characters, all novelists need to learn how to write characters that are unlike themselves. And this includes characters of the opposite sex. Fortunately, there’s one thing that makes the process much easier. Despite our differences, no matter who we are, male or female, we are all human. Therefore, I share a good number of “female” personality characteristics with the fairer sex, at least in some instances. And for every “male” personality characteristic that I possess, there is at least one woman in the world who shares the same characteristic.

Now, I’ve never heard it said of any of my female characters that “a woman just wouldn’t do that.” But if anyone ever were to say such a thing—and I know that some people have said that of other writers’ characters—I would firmly disagree with a clear conscience. Because whether you agree with her or not, she did do that, and she’s a woman. So there!

When we say that “a woman just wouldn’t do that,” what we actually mean is that most women probably wouldn’t do that. (And sometimes, in particular, I wouldn’t do that.) Similarly, when we say, for example, that women are more emotional than men, what we mean is that most women express their feelings more readily than most men. Or when we say that men are more aggressive than women, what we actually mean is that most men behave more aggressively than most women. The differences between the sexes is a game of averages, not of absolutes. But when you’re talking about individuals, the averages don’t mean much. Because for every “male” characteristic, there’s at least one woman in the world who shares that characteristic; and for every “female” characteristic, there’s at least one man who shares that.

Writing a female character is like writing any character who is unlike me, and analogous to writing any scene that I’ve never actually experienced. It comes in two parts: Firstly, I need to understand the character, how she feels, how she thinks, what’s happened in her past, and how she looks at her future. As a writer, that’s one of the reasons I study psychology, because it helps me to understand personalities that are unlike mine. Secondly, I need to put myself in that character’s place, to empathize with her.

Understanding the character has always been easy, ever since I began understanding characters who were different than me. And it has only gotten easier as I’ve learned more about human nature. And I expect it to get easier still as I continue to grow as a writer and as a human being.

But the other, to put myself in her place so that I can write her story… I’ve only just begun, I think, to pioneer that wonderland.

In the past, I’ve identified with her, like a method actor, by finding some analogous situation in my own experience. If she’s hurt, even by something that wouldn’t bother me, I draw on the times from my past where my own feelings have been hurt. If she’s angry, I draw upon a time where something angered me. And so forth.

This method has served me well, even in romantic scenes. When I wrote the Mira-Ike lunch scene in Abe’s Turn, for example, I did more imagining that I was Ike than that I was Mira. I just told the story from Mira’s perspective, throwing in a few hints here and there based on what I knew she was feeling and thinking. And when I did imagine I was Mira, I did so as a man. So when he kissed her, I simply imagined what I might feel if a woman I had a thing for kissed me; then I switched the sexes.

But writing From the Ashes of Courage, I took this process to another level, and it was the first time. More than just imagining an analogous situation that invoked the same reaction in me, when I wrote Gail’s flashback kiss scene, for example, I actually put myself into Gail’s body, saw things through her eyes.

It was quite an experience.

-TimK

Photo © 2006 Linus Bohman CC BY 2.0

Once in a while you have one of those dreams that sticks with you after you wake up, moves you, speaks to you, but in ways you don’t understand upon waking. I had such a dream New Year’s morning. And the first thing I did was to write it down, or at least as much as I remembered:

I have prepared a presentation in a college course. But the professor decides not to use it, despite the work I’ve put into it. And no one seems to care.

Now I have prepared another presentation in the same course. I’ve put even more work into this one: researched my subject completely, prepared overhead slides, the works. Anxiety grips me, whether the professor and the rest of the class will receive my presentation well, or whether they will hate it, because I’ve never before given a presentation quite like this. But I remind myself that it’s better to try new things, to do what I haven’t succeeded at before, to expand my horizons, even if I ultimately fail at this attempt, because this is how I grow as a human being.

I leave class to double-check the overhead computer setup. I return just in time to give my presentation. But instead of calling on me, the professor announces another student, who is to give a presentation related to mine. That’s a mistake, however, because he’s already given his presentation, which the professor realizes as he walks up to the podium. He steps down off the dais and returns to his seat, and the professor calls another student to go.

Meanwhile, I’m wondering when my turn is going to come. It was supposed to be now. But maybe the professor just got his schedule confused. Maybe I’ll go next.

Now I am facing the student who had given the related presentation. I am sitting in his part of the lecture hall, in the seat in front of him, looking back across the table at him. He explains to me that I don’t have to give my presentation anymore, because he already gave his. Angry, I tell him that I do have to, because of all the work I’ve put into it. He tells me that it’s much better this way, because now I don’t have to worry about whether I’ll be any good.

My anger turns to rage. I yell at him that I need to give this presentation, because of all the work I put into it. He still doesn’t understand. I’m screaming now, that the professor was unfair, that the whole class must hear my presentation, because it has to make a difference.

I realize that this presentation is part of my search for meaning in my life, that it is something I haven’t done before and I’m nervous about; therefore, it will cause me to grow.

I repeat to my classmate, “It has to make a difference!”

By now, the whole class has noticed my behavior, and they are all cheering at me.

I know that the big presentation in my dream is the book I’ve been working on. I had almost completed it, and I was on the verge of the post-revision blues— or (in this case) post-production blues.

That would make the first presentation my last book. The first phases of a writing career, no matter how ultimately successful, always bring its author frustration. A new author’s worries—not that people will hate her work—but that no one will even care. And more often than not, that’s what comes to pass, that no matter how many people love your work, there are never as many as you had hoped, and they’re never as enthused about it as you are. This is neither the fault of the fans nor of the author; it’s simply the way things work.

I had experienced much of that sort of anxiety and dismay with the Love-Idiot book. For example, even though I received numerous personal complements, few of those turned into reviews on sites like Amazon and Goodreads. Most of those who expressed interest, I found it hard to get them to read it— and I sympathize, because I myself have a stack of books at home that I haven’t yet read.

Now, From the Ashes of Courage represents an even greater leap forward for me. With this book, I feel like I’ve hit my stride. I long to read more books like this—literally, I’ve been looking for them—but there are so few, long on humanity, short on sex. Precious few authors really understand the human condition.

This is the beginning stage in a novel’s life, in which only those who have a vested interest have had anything to say about it. And now it’s finally left the nest, taken its first tentative steps into the wild, to subject itself to those who have no vested interest, and as its parent, you hope that they too will support it. But the nagging fear remains, that no one will even read the first few chapters, that I won’t be able to find a way to reach out to its fans, or that they’ll reject me. In my dream, then, the class represents my fans. I fear that they’ll reject me. (Yes, dreams reveal the gory feelings that we loathe to share.) But they end up sympathizing with me and cheering me on in the end. It’s enough to make an author cry with joy, and not just me. Seriously, other authors have stories, too. I don’t know if fans realize how much their enthusiastic support truly means, on an emotional level. I know that I didn’t realize, until I was myself an author.

The other student probably represents the other authors who have been more successful than me. The professor is the book industry, which generally looks down on indie authors. (Hell, it even sometimes looks down on established, mid-list authors.) The slides are probably the supplementary material in the advance edition that I had been double-checking at the time I had the dream.

But what struck me most about this dream, and what I remembered most, is the ending. “It has to make a difference!” See, I never write just for the drama. I believe that good stories have something to say, not in a preachy way, but because they reflect the human condition. And I try to integrate those messages into every story I write. And I long for others to feel those subtexts and to take them to heart. I want to make a difference.

That’s my New Year’s wish.

-TimK

Photo © 2008 Glenn Harper CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

It’s the day after Christmas (or close enough, anyhow). And you know what that means: Everyone breathes a sigh of relief that Uncle Albert is on his way home for another year. No, seriously, it means we all return all the gifts that we didn’t actually want. Except that I didn’t get any of those, or at least none that I’ll return.

We all scaled down the holiday a bunch this year—and will probably even further next year—except for my little niece, who played the social butterfly and chatted everyone’s ear off between laments of “I wish I had more presents.” My sister-in-law and I tried to explain to her that part of the fun of Christmas is seeing our family open their presents, too. I don’t know whether she got it, but I have faith that someday, she will.

I got a couple of books— What else? Dear John, by Nicholas Sparks, and Night of the Wolves, by Heather Graham. (Yes, I do enjoy romance novels, but this one has a picture of a guy, trim and fit, on the cover, with his shirt unbuttoned all the way down. And according to the book summary, his name is— gack Cody! I feel really uncomfortable about all of this. But the Missus bought me those books, and the Little One gave them to me, and so I will read them, both of them. By the way, since when did Harlequin stop putting their brand-name warning label “Harlequin” on their books?!)

One of the first things I did was to quickly count words, by counting pages. The HQN™ book, of course, has 298 pages—so less than 100,000 words—plus a bunch of pages for ads, plus a page about the author. (Heather Graham has really long, straight, blonde hair that flails around her shoulders, like she just got out of bed in the morning and hasn’t had a chance to brush it yet… Eh, ignore me. Maybe the book will be okay, anyhow.)

What intrigued me was that the Nicholas Sparks novel also has less than 100,000 words, although it could be approaching 100K. (335 pages in a mass-market paperback covered with 9-point Palatino at 31 lines per each tiny page—the publisher is getting every last square millimeter out of that pulp, and who cares about legibility?)

But I wonder whether the small novel is coming back into vogue. Kirstin Butler posted as much on Twitter yesterday. (Sunday afternoon is the best for Twitter, because all the e-marketers are off for the weekend.) But she hasn’t any real research to support the belief, any more than I do. Even if I did have real research, I’m biased, because I like reading small novels, and I like writing them. And I actually think I’m developing a mental allergy to any book over an inch thick (except for Sherlock Holmes, because that’s a collection of short stories).

Meanwhile, I continue to plow through the Advance Edition of my own short novel, From the Ashes of Courage. (As I have been all weekend, including the holiday.) I’m now a quarter of the way through the final editing pass, which is the very last phase. And then it will be off to the printers.

-TimK

Drunk Cat, © 2005 Ibrahim Owais CC BY-SA 2.0

As a writer, I often get asked, how do you revise a novel? Actually, I don’t get asked that. Someone does often ask me what word he wanted to use, as though I as a writer should have a command of words. (I don’t. But that’s a different post.) Of course, if I knew what word he wanted to use, then he would have already put his his thoughts into words for me, and he would already know what word he wanted to use, all by himself, without me telling him.

But no one ever asks me how to revise a novel. Yet it’s a process every great novelist needs to master. And as I happen to be in the middle of revising my latest upcoming novel, I thought I’d spend a little time today demystifying this essential process for you. Fortunately for all budding authors, revision is as simple as 1-2-3, if you just follow the following steps.

1. Finish the manuscript

This is harder than it sounds. First of all, when you sit down to write, something else will always be more important, such as surfing the web or playing FarmVille. (Hey, those cows won’t milk themselves!) This is especially true for people like me, who work at my computer, typing my novel directly into my word-processor. One solution to this problem is to write with pen and paper, but that leads to a whole other set of maladies, such as writer’s cramp and trying to read your own writing.

Another way you can finish your manuscript is to participate in NaNoWriMo (pronounced ˌnanōˈrīmō), or “National Novel Writing Month” for short, which happens every November. NaNoWriMo is when thousands of writers and wanna-be writers all sit down at their computers at the same time each year and put words on virtual paper. The goal is to write 50,000 words by the end of the month, including Thanksgiving, using any means necessary. Through NaNoWriMo, you can learn numerous tricks for increasing your word count, tricks such as:

• Use lots of verbose description. Describe everything, from the color of the carpet to the height of the grass. The more meaningless it is to the actual story, the more description it requires, because it has to make up for not doing its fair share.
• Use lots of dialogue, including hello’s and goodbye’s and long talks about the weather. Especially, include long conversations with cameo characters that have no significance and never appear again in the story. After all, even the cameos have to do their fair share to pad your word count.
• Always split up contractions into two words. So “don’t” becomes “do not.” See? You gained a word! Better yet, use the passive voice instead of the active. So “I wrote the book” becomes “The book was written by me.” That’s two extra words!
• Have your characters engage in side-stories, such as waiting for the clock to strike twelve, or counting the number of tiles on the bathroom floor.
• Have each character stutter, or always need to say everything three times before he’s satisfied that he’s gotten out what he wanted to say.
• Describe everything your characters do, including walking, driving, or just sitting and watching TV. Detail every errant thought that occurs to your character, no matter how boring it may seem.

If you’ve done these things well, you’ll be ready for he second step in revising your novel…

2. Print it out

Once you have your manuscript completely typed into your computer, you’ll need to print it out, because all real editors work with paper and ink. Seriously, though, it can make the revision process easier, and it’s an editing style that all writers should try at least once.

So you need to connect your printer up to your laptop, install any one of a number of obscure drivers to get it to work, and then discover that your kids used up all your paper making flyers to pass around the neighborhood about Snuffy, who is little Emily’s lost turtle. But you didn’t have the heart to tell little Emily that Snuffy had died, and now you’re regretting it.

After returning from the office supply store with a new ream of primo discount paper, you are now ready to print your manuscript. Of course, you’ll only get about 50 pages in before the text on the page begins getting light, and then almost so that you can’t see it. So it’s off to the office supply store again, this time for a new ink cartridge at $15 a pop.

Now, by the time your printer reaches page 150 or so, it will begin to get tired. Seriously, my printer gets tired in the middle of a large printing job. I almost always print in “draft” mode, because it uses less $15 ink and it goes much faster. The printer will be chugging along, spitting out pages— and if I’ve forgotten to set the paper catch, it literally will spit them out halfway across the room. And then at some point, it will slow down. Its printing will begin to sound more laborious, and it will begin to make loud groaning noises as it pulls in each new page, and as the printing head slogs back and forth, squeezing out ink along the way. And it will get slower and more tired, until it finally gets its second wind. Then all is again right with the world.

A bit of warning, something they don’t tell you in the printer manual: never leave a printing printer unattended! You’ll need to sit there, watching it, taking each chapter off as it finishes (because your cheapo printer isn’t designed to work with a 1-inch-thick stack of paper), always being careful to keep the pages in the right order. You’ll also need to refill the printer with more blank sheets when it runs out, and it will, over and over again. You’re printing a novel here, remember, not the Three Little Pigs!

By the way, when you print your manuscript on your cheapo inkjet printer, you should probably click on the “reverse pages” option. That way the last page will come out first, at the bottom of the 1-inch-thick stack of finished pages. I did check the “reverse pages” option. I hope you remembered to as well. Otherwise, now you have to reverse 250 sheets of paper manually. In the middle of doing that, you’ll no doubt accidentally drop or bump your manuscript, causing papers to spray all over the living room floor. (By the way, you did include page numbers in your manuscript format, didn’t you?)

Then, after you finally get all the pages in order, you’ll realize that you could have just reversed them while you were actually reading them during the actual revision process.

3. Mark up the manuscript

Last but not least, you need to read your manuscript, making notes on the pages where you need to make changes. There are many kinds of changes you’ll need to watch for, and I don’t have time to go into them now. But it hardly matters, because as soon as you begin reading, you’ll see how boring and pathetic the story actually is, and you’ll give up, go get a tall glass of something alcoholic to drink, and get smashed.

So there you have it, revising your novel in three easy steps.

As for me, I need to get back to my own latest. I’m missing page 172. It’s gotta be around here somewhere…

-TimK

P.S. In all seriousness, I’m very satisfied with what I’ve written so far. Yes, I’m making lots of scribbles on the manuscript, issues to address, including some broad issues of story and theme. But I’m actually finding it a joy to read. They say that you should write what you would enjoy reading, and I think I’ve succeeded in that.

P.P.S. I’m using Holly Lisle’s one-pass manuscript revision process, exactly as she describes it. I’ve always used a variation of that process, going from first to final draft in one pass, but this is the first time I’ve done everything she recommends, exactly as she recommends it. I’m finding it workable, but the jury’s still out on whether—for me—it’s really necessary to print out the manuscript and work on paper, as she recommends. So far, I haven’t done anything that wouldn’t have been easier to do right on the computer. That may have something to do with how I write, or maybe with my preferred working style. Don’t know for sure yet.

Revising a novel can be an exciting and trying process. Exciting, because you get to see a story you’ve been working on for weeks (or longer) finally taking final form. Revision is also when you finalize the themes in your story, because the characters’ story arcs have reached their final form, and you get to see them told through the story. In my case, I started with a hot list of issues I needed to address throughout the manuscript. But as I began reading, I saw that I had already been addressing them, even from the first chapters.

Revising can be a trying process, though, too, because you run across chapters or scenes that… well, they suck. And even though this is your baby, even though you’ve poured your soul into it, though you may even identify with it, you must be brutal. If whole sections of it drone on, you have to get rid of them. If an inspired scene doesn’t fit into the final story, you have to get rid of it. Be merciless.

Above is a scan on one of the less than stellar first-draft pages. (Click it to make it bigger.) As you can see, I’ve crossed most of it out. And of what’s left, I’m not too thrilled. This scene does have some conflict in it, so it can rock. But I have to get rid of anything that I can, and abbreviate the rest until it’s almost not there.

But overall, I’m very happy with the way this novel is turning out. Sometimes, reading this, I feel like I’m the best writer on the planet.

Okay… Coming back down to earth now.

-TimK

P.S. I have a humorous piece queued up for Friday about revising a novel. Stay tuned.

In brief, Gail and George divorced years ago, and they haven’t seen each other since. Now, she’s part of his life again, as a friend. George’s father seems genuinely happy to see her and treats her with affection and respect. But George’s mother is acting out, making her feel uncomfortable. One of the other characters explains that when a child’s marriage breaks up, it can be hard on the parents. Everybody pays attention to the kids of divorced couples, but they all just assume that the parents will just deal (as it were) with their son’s or daughter’s divorce.

As the author, writing this fictional character, I was genuinely surprised to hear her say that. So I did a little Googling. I found only a few web pages that said anything about dealing with the divorce of your child. The first said essentially what I wrote above, that researchers have paid a lot of attention to the children—as indeed they should—but that very few up until now have considered the effects of the divorce on other adults.

A user commented on that page, explaining that their child’s divorce left them feeling “like we are grieving and I cannot seem to find anyone else in my situation.”

My fictional character explains to Gail that it’s like she was dead, but now she’s come back to life— but not really her. It really makes me feel empathy with George’s mother, to explain some of the animosity she feels but which she hasn’t been able to work through constructively.

What Gail doesn’t know, but which she will probably find out before the story is over, is that just as children of divorced parents can blame themselves for the divorce, so also parents of divorced children sometimes blame themselves. In George’s case, his mother believes they and Gail’s parents should have been more involved back when it counted. Now, she’s reflecting her hurt, guilt, and anger back onto Gail by sabotaging any long-term relationship Gail has, thereby proving that it was Gail’s inability to commit that caused all the problems in the first place.

Here’s another page that goes into more depth on what a parent can experience when her child divorces. It confirms several points I had speculated upon and worked into the story above. I also discovered a book (which I have not read), Your Child’s Divorce: What to Expect — What You Can Do.

My kids are still barely teenagers, and I hope never to be the parent of a divorcée. But it’s still good that this subject is gaining some attention.

Do you have any words of wisdom to offer to my characters? Or to me as their author?

-TimK

Now, both are taken aback by their feelings for each other at a romantic, seaside cottage on Ardor Point, and by the impact this will have on the rest of their lives. What surprises does this long-languishing relationship have in store?

A heart-wrenching love story, of relationships, lost and found love, and fighting through hard times, with gritty, real-life character complexities, and containing a life-expanding message designed to inspire and uplift.

Status: Way behind schedule, but approaching the second plot point, and to about 27,000 words (a little over 100 pages in trade-paperback form). On target to be a short novel.

I’ll probably call the book From the Ashes of Courage, because that title has performed well in marketing pre-tests.

-TimK