The grand finale of a structural edit: weeding out words and edging closer to the finish line
Writing Journal: When She Was Gone #3
You’d think that by Story No. 9 it would get easier to blast through the first draft of a new novel. Alas, it doesn’t. At least, not for me. (Insert ‘silent scream’ or ‘melting face’ emoji here …) All of my books have had their own birthing process (to borrow a very cliched but apt analogy for book production). Some move steadily through the different stages, the tempo of my labour gradually increasing until the final torturous stretch (gulp!) of effort produces a precious first draft. Others are a stop-start affair: just when you think you’re on your way, the process stalls for reasons either life or story-related, and it takes patience and considerable effort and intervention to get things moving again.
Of course, I’ve made gains each time I’ve worked on a new novel. I now have a clearer understanding of how to plot and pace the story, the expectations of genre, and I’ve devised extensive questionnaires to help develop my characters. I also know more about my preferred narrative choices and structure - at present I’m still loving third-person present tense for that sense of immediacy and multiple points of view for layering the story. However, what also creeps in with all this knowledge is my extended awareness of how many facets of the story need to work perfectly in order to turn it from a good book into a great one. And this can make it easy to obsess and overthink. In fact, I’m currently overthinking this entire paragraph in light of my morning’s productivity and wondering if I actually know anything at all!
There are sometimes sacrifices to be made too. In order to meet my deadlines, which are often very tight in commercial fiction writing, it’s essential to get all the vital components of the plot and narrative perspective down, but layers of language and character can be continually worked on and nuanced during the editing process. At first draft stage it’s important to have enough on the page so that publishers, editors and agents can see your vision, and work with you on enhancing it - but it can be easy to get caught in tiny details too early, when the editing process will allow time for these fixes after feedback. Of course, I’m talking from the perspective of a mid-career novelist: ideally, a first novel needs to go out with as many of these tiny tweaks applied as possible, because a clean and polished script will be far more likely to catch the eye of a prospective publisher. However, that said, if the vision is clear and the writing is strong, a publisher will still be very happy to work with a debut author on refining the story.
One of the hardest things for me at this stage is watching some of the scenes I’ve built with excitement during the drafting process becoming redundant as I refine the plot. How do I know when this has happened? Often, it’s instinctual: I realise I don’t feel as excited about the story as I should, and the writing becomes harder or stalls as I sense I’ve lost direction. I’ve never had an extensive experience of writer’s block but I have encountered plenty of temporary dead ends, and it’s always a stressful moment involving a dash for brain food (the biscuit jar), some breathing exercises, and a prayer to the muse (who is probably also stuffing her face with biscuits, considering she works with me).
However, I also know by now that this disconcerting experience is telling me to revisit what I’ve already written, or that something vital is missing. Decoding the problem means carefully analysing the story to pinpoint it, and then usually deleting some words - which is always painful, especially close to the end of a draft. Hopefully it’s only a chapter or two - although one time (Beneath the Shadows) I deleted 20K in one fell swoop - and ouch that hurt! Sadly, the Backspace button is invariably the key to unlocking the story again.
So right now, with a week to go before this draft is due to be handed in, I’m asking questions like:
Are my characters interesting and complex?
Do I have enough plot twists?
Do the reveals work?
Is everything happening in the right order?
Is the narrative engaging or am I resorting to cliches and simplified language in order to meet the deadline?
These kinds of questions guide me in the continual and sometimes torturous process of letting go of the sections that don’t serve the story any more, in order to encourage the right words to flow. It’s an intricate and challenging point of development, but exciting too, as the finish line finally becomes visible. And this week it’s all helped along by Team Foz - my husband and two daughters, who have agreed to be my cheer squad, make my dinner, do the housework and generally look after me. Because a looming deadline isn’t worth tackling without a bit too much chocolate, the occasional power nap, and lots of cups of tea.
Thank you for sharing this!
I loved this. Thank you, Sara.