…the silence since my March 6th post and today, really…
My mother-in-law visited.
I heard back from Gail, and she wants more revisions.
I had either a very brief flu or a very rare cold-with-fever/chills/cold sweat.
I jacked up my back and my right hip.
I’m sure the second two have nothing at all to do with stress from the first two. Nothing at all.
Yeah.
I tend to somatosize EVERYTHING and it’s starting to get old.
Anyway, the mother-in-law is now gone, the illness is gone but for a bit of congestion, and my back’s feeling just fine. I am back to work on the revisions. But bringing draft four into five? So much harder than earlier drafts. I’m having to remember over and over that what seems inevitable and permanent in the text now only feels that way because of habit. It’s the way things have been for a number of drafts, but that doesn’t mean it can’t or shouldn’t change. I’m struggling against myself to some degree in this revision and it feels kind of crappy. The results, earned one slow, aching paragraph at a time, are great, but the process? This time, it hurts. It really really hurts. I’m using the retyping method again, and then going back over and over and over the same spot until it’s rubbed raw. Who knows when I’ll finish this draft, but it feels like the right way to do it this time.
This round of revisions seems to have a lot to do with Gail feeling like it’s near impossible to sell ANY literary novel right now. Of course, that doesn’t add to my stress one bit. Not one bit.
Gail suggested I get a non-writer general reader to look over the manuscript. She’s got some quibbles yet with the balance of the storylines, but isn’t confident she’s right, and I’m not sure either. Billy doesn’t want that role anymore–too much pressure since he has so much invested in the outcome–so I asked a neighbor to read it when I’m done with the revision. I’ve loaned a few novels to this neighbor, and his reactions to them have always been thoughtful and good, and he’s got a terrifically big brain. He’s excited to read the manuscript, so that feels good… But now when I sit down to revise, I feel like I’m writing for him. It’s good (at least, it helps me) to write with a reader in mind, but it feels strange to be writing for the man who lives across the street. I feel like I’m working toward walking naked into his living room. Essentially, this is what I’ll be doing when he reads the book, but I’m sure he won’t perceive it that way. I said as much to Billy last night, what an intimate thing it is, to show a draft of a book to someone, and how much I feel is going to be revealed about me and the way my brain moves, and he didn’t get it. He said, “I didn’t think the last draft revealed much about you at all.” Which is to say, it’s not autobiographical. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t revealing. The good news is, the degree of exposure I feel is evident only to me.
But still. Weird. This neighbor will either be a great help or not much use at all. He probably won’t do much harm, as I’ve developed a pretty good ear for bad writing feedback over the years. We’ll see. It’s going to be at least a month before I put the pages in his hands anyway.
Still. Nervous, nervous.
As to why I need a non-writer reader for this draft? That’s a whole other post, but not one I’m sure I’ll write. Writers as draft readers are essential, and my most trusted draft readers are fellow writers. But writers read differently, and I think in later drafts the response of a general reader is the more valuable one to show you how things are truly working on the page.
And now, back to it. Just an hour left in my big Sunday work day.
Cari, I hear your pain. What is more terrifying than showing a draft? If I were not mired in my own revision process I would tell you to email me with it!
x Caroline
I am dubious about this. But it’s your work and your decision. Isn’t this serious overkill? It is probably at least coy for me to say this, but I will … isn’t the only person you have to satisfy as a writer is yourself? If it’s what you want, what you intended, and you did the best you could, then that ought to be the end of it. Literary fiction is indeed still selling, even if not at a brisk pace … I just sold another literary novel last month … well, I didn’t actually sell it, but you know what I mean. My advance didn’t go up, though. I wish you the best of luck, but I also wish you clarity of judgement.
As a non-writer I can see why you would want someone who isn’t a writer to read it. A totally different point of view. And your neighbor is probably really excited to get to read your novel. Glad you are feeling better!
Started anything for the garden yet?
The revisions at this level are hard and painful, yeah. I completely struggled and fought through my last drafts. We should go in armed with machetes next time.
I’m glad you’re feeling better in body, if not in spirit.
Aren’t writeres always writing for the man across the street? Or the woman at the supermarket or the girl on the bus (that would be me)?
OK, I understand you don’t see this book at that stage just yet, but your neighbour knows that. And I hope both him and Gail likes it cause I’d love to read it myself someday!
If you need a TOTAL stranger to read it, I volunteer!
I’m thinking of you, and standing behind your back should you need to keel over. I wish I were a decent reader, but I usually come away from a book with just an overwhelming feeling of “I loved it,” or “meh,” and I’m not good at giving meaningful feedback. BUT my Abigail is, I think, the kind of thoughtful reader you’re looking for, as well as her friend Julia, who is a long-time friend from Vermont who also went to Walnut Hill (as a dancer) and now also living in NYC, who was working in the publishing industry until it crashed, and now thinks she wants to go for a Ph.D. in English. Let me know if you’d like to be put in touch with two young, fairly well educated and sophisticated females as readers.
I was thinking along the same lines as other commenters: you have a following in blog-land. I’m sure some of us (non-writers) would be thrilled to read your draft. (Me included, in case that wasn’t clear!)
O.k. I’m off to revise my report, one more time. (Different writing, same problem. Almost – its a very short report.)
Good luck!
I completely understand the naked in his living room thing. I’ve had moments of that with giving drafts of my book to people (though, I’ve found it becomes easier with time — but maybe this neighbor is a hard one because he’s not a writer?) Anyway, wish I had something to say to make you feel less nervous, but how about some sympathy instead? 🙂
A few years ago I wrote a paper for a CanLit course that was sort of a cross between a research essay and creative writing that was not autobiographical exactly but was drawn from personal experience (as it had to do with my hometown). The professor was a fairly well known and totally flaky poet and I had no problem giving this paper to her but I took great pains to ensure that nobody else would ever, ever see it: I printed one copy for the prof and then erased all evidence of the work from my hard drive and shredded all of my handwritten notes. I was so embarrassed by that single foray into creative writing that I couldn’t bear for Peter to see it. If that one hard copy ever got into anyone’s hands I’m pretty sure I would die of humiliation like a high school girl (and yet I got an A+ on that paper and aced the course).
I’m sure you’ll be inundated with offers of help that you haven’t really asked for, but I’ll say it anyway: any time you need this kind of assistance, for any writing project, I’m willing to do some reading and offer feedback. I’m a pretty critical reader.
I considered trying to write once but was too shy; I couldn’t handle the idea of the exposure. So you make perfect sense to me. I decided to settle for being an informed reader and competent editor, although most of what I edit is scientific writing. And that only because my co-workers are only marginally literate when it comes to expressing themselves on paper. (Not to sound mean, but I can’t convince anyone that accessed and assessed are two different words. And my personal favorite: interrupter used to mean interpreter.)
And on another topic entirely: I recommend The Book Thief. It seemed your sort of novel.
Your mother-in-law sounds like an interesting person – didn’t you write that she has an Emmy for news production or something??
If you don’t like her, your kid will pick up on it, and side with you, and have one less person in his life who loves him.
I can speak from experience – I have a sister-in-law, who has a similar attitude towards our family. It has made things extremely divisive.
It would seem that the men who are the sons and the husbands have virtually no control over any of this – that it’s the mother/daughter-in-law who controls everything that affects “her family”.
If things go well for you, eventually, you will have a daughter-in-law, and you’ll have become the dreaded mother-in-law!