Thursday, March 05, 2009

white knuckles, red capes, and the next phase of revision

Events conspired to overtake our heroes, as events often do.—Peter David, Tigerheart

Sometimes heroism is nothing more than patience, curiosity, and a refusal to panic. —the unbelievably brilliant Leif Enger

Well. It was a lovely break, a wonderful few days off. There was tea, there was knitting (a gorgeous blue scarf with cables! oh I’m so proud of me!), there was reading.

I am pleased to report that The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society was every bit as fantastic as I had hoped. It’s so good—please do drop everything and read it. It made me want to write a dozen letters, to run away to the Channel Islands, and to be Juliet (the plucky writerly heroine). Basically, I would like to fall into this book and not come out.

But now it’s back to work: facing my ever-undaunted computer screen and feeling very much daunted myself.

It’s the day I’ve been darkly referring to as D-Day: Decision Day. I spent it staring at my book and asking it: what do we do next? Give Part One an even brighter sheen? Or revisit the wilds of Part Two (which I closed the file on last September), and make it match the standard set by a surprisingly fine Part One?

I realized that the only thing standing between me and Part Two was bug-eyed fear, and so I checked my wrist: it still says fearless. Darn it. Part Two it is, then.

So I spent the day planning.

Facing something horrible always gives you permission to spend the day in pajamas. Did you know that? Well, it does. If you needed permission to do this sort of thing, you have it. I’ll sign any notes that must be signed: the bearer of this note is allowed to stay in pjs. It’s the best way.

Even better if you have a brilliant red pashmina that you can lace around your neck, giving you the air of a superhero newly awakened, but still ready to save the world. That was me today. Flying about on equal parts coffee, green salsa, and terror, and planning Part Two within an inch of its life.

Which is fair enough. Last year, Part Two nearly killed me. (Honest. The middle of this book is positively homicidal.)

Now the planning is done, and there’s nothing else for it: I have to read Part Two, the old Part Two from last summer. I am so terribly squeamish about reading these old drafts: which is partly why there are more plans than I know what to do with, and also why I’m hoping to blog until my fingers are numb… and maybe put off rereading until tomorrow??

Because I know what I’ll be facing: a creaky older version of a far-less-fun protagonist; old plot twists; tired ideas of what the middle should be like. Nothing at all like the dynamic, witty, and wonderful Part One.

But the ink on my wrist is still there. Rats and rats. Well, I’m off to face my flaws in print. Have a merry evening and buy yourself a cape.—jl

Posted by Jenn Langefeld on 03/05 at 09:59 PM
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