LisbethThom.com

Hi there and Happy New Year.

Did I end the New Year revising a chapter so Tessa can move along in my sister’s novel?  No, I have to admit, I did not.  I decided to postpone  penning words until New Year’s Day.  Instead of writing I made up new calendars, paid bills, cleaned out drawers, talked on the phone, played online, — you know, all those things we writers do when we are trying not to sit our butts down in the chair and spit out the words.

And then I went to a movie, “We Bought A Zoo,” with my sweetheart of many moons.  And, what a great movie.  I expected a story about animals.  But no… it’s a dynamite story about people, a family of three, a dad, a son, a daughter, who struggle to mend after the loss of a wife, a mom.  It is based on a true story, and that makes it more genuine.  The little girl is fabulous.  She has some great lines as do the dad and brother.   Okay, enuf about the movie.  Go see it.  You will love it.  If that doesn’t sound like your cup of glog, well then try Mission Impossible.   I understand it has some marvelous chase scenes.

After the movie came dinner.   Scored flounder for me.  I inhaled it as we laughed and joked around with our next-door neighbors, Joyce and Fred.  A fun evening.  We were home in time to smooch at  midnight and ring in yet another new year.  So now it’s here and my fingers are on the keys.  I feel right at home.  I’ve stored up many tales the last few weeks. The words are elbowing one another trying to get out.  Ah, that’s a great feeling.

I’m ready to face the bad stuff along with the good.  As Ernest Hemingway said,  ”Every good writer needs a shock-proof shit detector.”   (I should have requested one from Santa.)  I just read a similar writer’s quote from a book called “Advice to Writer’s:  A Compendium of Quotes, Anecdotes and Writerly Wisdom…” that went something like this: “If you’re working on a novel and you don’t once in a while feel like you just passed a hot turd, you aren’t working hard enough.”  Well, I certainly feel that way at times, so I guess I’ve aced that test.

How about you?

Lisbeth

Imagine that you have two sticks held together by a rubberband.  If you add another stick, tension on the rubberband builds.  As you add more sticks, it continues to build until eventually it’s ready to snap.  When you stop adding sticks, all is well, and it all stays together.

In writing a novel, you start out adding conflict that causes tension.   As your novel progresses, the added tension grows to a very uncomfortable stage, eventually reaching a point where things can’t get much worse.   You continue to blast your story with conflict until the tension peaks.  That’s when it’s time to back off, you must lead your characters to a place where a conclusion can be reached and all is well. 

An important thing to remember is that the tension gets undermined when an unnecessary line is thrown in.   

I’m in the midst of revising Tessa and Claudine, my current novel about my two sisters.   I’ve spent some time reading over past workshop notes.  I was delighted when I found the great example from Johathan Rabb of the sticks and the rubberband and especially loved being reminded about undermining the tension.   

In the chapter I just revised,  Tessa’s sister, Claudine is about to get married.  Tessa doesn’t like Frank, her sister’s husband-to-be.  Actually, she can’t stand the guy and for good reason.  Should she tell Claudine why feels so uncomfortable around him?   It might ruin her sister’s future.  There’s plenty of opportunity for conflict in this chapter.   Now let’s just hope I can identify those uneeded lines.  If not.  Thank goodness I have great friends who critique for me.  We trade off reading manuscripts.  Sometimes it takes another eye to see what needs to be whacked. 

Good luck with adding tension to your own writing.  And be sure to cut out those lines that don’t move the story forward. 

Enjoy the springtime, Lisbeth

I’m a workshop junkie.  I attend these gatherings to get a critique of my work.   I used to come home, look at all of the pen marks on my chapter, and then begin to make changes.  I don’t do that anymore.   Now, I return home and mull over the questions my workshop leader and others in the class asked about my protagonist, about the relationships between my characters, and about the structure of my story.  I check to see if certain scenes move my story line forward.  I remind myself to trust my reader.

The next day, I work on the next chapter of my novel, and get excited thinking about the new directions in which my plot can flow. 

I also begin to correct small changes in my critiqued chapter but save major changes for down the road, when I can see where the story line is taking me.  I make notes in the margin and clip or stick-on notes regarding changes I’m not exactly sure about.   And, eventually it all comes together.

I find that, after a critique session,  taking time to think about revision is valuable.   I learn more this way.  I often take a walk and rehash my story.  I focus on the scenes and recall the constructive comments I’ve received.  That’s when the creative juices begin to flow. 

Sometimes, when I go out to dinner with my husband, Doug, I still have the juices flowing.  He gives me this look and says, “So how many characters are out to dinner with us tonight?”

“Only a couple,” I say with a sly grin.  “And they don’t eat much.”

Here we go –  more about emotion in writing:

In my last workshop session, I once again got margin notes indicating that I needed to add emotion.  I must be a slow learner.

This professor doesn’t mince words.  In one spot, he said, “Make your character speak like a 16-year old, humanize her or else the reader will close the book.”   He’s slap-you-in-the-face direct and admits it but says he knows we can take it.  We can.

In my revision.  I’m using more internal thought, and  I’ve eliminated some surface statements which do not show Tessa’s feelings.  If the reader doesn’t understand what she’s feeling, they won’t relate to her.

For instance, the day Tessa goes out the door to leave town with her sister, Claudine, and her mother, she wants to tell her stepfather, Luke, goodbye.  But, she doesn’t.  I don’t explain why nor do I give the reader the visceral sense of the scene.  As you can see, I have some deep revision to do.

By the way, I’d like to report that further along in this same chapter, the professor actually pointed out a few pages that he thought were “great. ”  He said what I’d written worked well because I’d not only let the reader see the scene, but the reader could also feel the emotion.  (Whew, it felt good to tell you something positive for a change. )

I hope my revision tips have been of some help.  Keep on writing.  I  write because I honestly don’t know how to stop writing.   It’s kind of like breathing for me.

And you?  Why do you write?

Lisbeth