I am working on Draft 2 of the book. It is a struggle. I thought that by now I would have been at least halfway through my revision. I had it all planned out! I had a schedule and dates and a lot of enthusiasm.
It didn't work out that way, Reader(s).
If you read an earlier post, you already know this. And if you have been checking the Mildred for updates on a regular basis, then you probably figured it out, too. (Why isn't Madeleine posting? I don't have a good feeling about her revision... Madeleine never completes anything! Etc.)
But the truth is I have been working on my revision. But by "working on my revision" I actually mean "refining my revision process." That is to say that revision is hard!
You know what, Reader(s)? I don't like the way this post is going. I feel rusty. The voice is wrong.
There you go--those last four sentences (which were not written with this intention, I swear on Agnes's life) are the best illustration of my revision process. Stopping, questioning, doubting, blaming.
Anyway, Our Dear Reader had a long talk with me again the other night and I feel re-focused. Stuff that I already knew, stuff that ODR had told me many times before, but this time, Reader(s), I feel like I got it.
ODR's most important bit of advice:
Break it down into goals.
Keep it at the task level.
Limit what you're doing.
Be brave.
Friday, April 20, 2012
Thursday, March 15, 2012
Sunday, March 11, 2012
Madeleine Reminds Herself in Public...
that the point of the second draft, or the goal for the second draft (not the point), is to make it more complete than the first draft. That is to say that the goal is not perfection. The book will NEVER be perfect. No book is perfect. This blog posting isn't even perfect.
Anyway, yes, Madeleine is having a difficult time revising. Madeleine also is shocked that this is her first posting of 2012. It has been so long since Madeleine posted on the Mildred that she can't remember if she posts in the third or the first person. The third person is feeling weird to Madeleine.
Anyway, yes, Madeleine is having a difficult time revising. Madeleine also is shocked that this is her first posting of 2012. It has been so long since Madeleine posted on the Mildred that she can't remember if she posts in the third or the first person. The third person is feeling weird to Madeleine.
Thursday, December 29, 2011
Madeleine Feels Overwhelmed
Have I used that title before on this blog? I must have! It could be the title of the blog.
The holidays are over, readers, and I have had this week off from work. I am working tomorrow, unfortunately. Also unfortunately, I had planned to rewrite the first story in my book--my completed first draft--this week, while I was off, to build some momentum going into the new year.
No rewrite, no momentum.
What happened? I don't know. Perhaps, as Our Dear Reader said yesterday, I just needed some time off. Perhaps. But now I am feeling the pressure.
What pressure--or pressure from where?
I am putting that pressure on myself. I know this but I can't seem to stop it! I think it was a mistake to tell people that I finished the first draft of my book. I was just so happy to have finished something, so pleased with myself, but now I feel like everyone is waiting and expecting something in the next few months.
Who's waiting? I KNOW, reader, NOBODY is waiting. Again I am setting myself up. Etc. etc.
These are the conversations I had all day long in my head...
I am most afraid of falling into bad habits again. Our Dear Reader is also most afraid of that.
I decided yesterday not to rewrite until January 1st (which is Sunday!) but still--NO rewriting until then. Instead I am reading draft one, from beginning to end. I read about 50 pages today. I have so much work to do. It is daunting. But there was a moment today when I suddenly felt excited; I suddenly felt that I was thrilled to see how this will all work out over the next few months, how I'll be able to revise these stories.
Then that moment passed.
I was reading some other blog, a food blog, and she was writing about deadlines and writing, and how she's finishing up her new book and she's so nervous about it right now, but she's come to realize that she only calms down when she's writing. I think (I hope) it will be the same for me.
I've set up a schedule, a number of pages to get through each day. I'm trying to be as concrete, as exact, as I can be. That's how the word count worked in Draft 1. Sometimes I hated the word count (oftentimes) but in the end it got me where I wanted to go.
Agnes is home! Blog writing must cease!
The holidays are over, readers, and I have had this week off from work. I am working tomorrow, unfortunately. Also unfortunately, I had planned to rewrite the first story in my book--my completed first draft--this week, while I was off, to build some momentum going into the new year.
No rewrite, no momentum.
What happened? I don't know. Perhaps, as Our Dear Reader said yesterday, I just needed some time off. Perhaps. But now I am feeling the pressure.
What pressure--or pressure from where?
I am putting that pressure on myself. I know this but I can't seem to stop it! I think it was a mistake to tell people that I finished the first draft of my book. I was just so happy to have finished something, so pleased with myself, but now I feel like everyone is waiting and expecting something in the next few months.
Who's waiting? I KNOW, reader, NOBODY is waiting. Again I am setting myself up. Etc. etc.
These are the conversations I had all day long in my head...
I am most afraid of falling into bad habits again. Our Dear Reader is also most afraid of that.
I decided yesterday not to rewrite until January 1st (which is Sunday!) but still--NO rewriting until then. Instead I am reading draft one, from beginning to end. I read about 50 pages today. I have so much work to do. It is daunting. But there was a moment today when I suddenly felt excited; I suddenly felt that I was thrilled to see how this will all work out over the next few months, how I'll be able to revise these stories.
Then that moment passed.
I was reading some other blog, a food blog, and she was writing about deadlines and writing, and how she's finishing up her new book and she's so nervous about it right now, but she's come to realize that she only calms down when she's writing. I think (I hope) it will be the same for me.
I've set up a schedule, a number of pages to get through each day. I'm trying to be as concrete, as exact, as I can be. That's how the word count worked in Draft 1. Sometimes I hated the word count (oftentimes) but in the end it got me where I wanted to go.
Agnes is home! Blog writing must cease!
Friday, December 16, 2011
Today Is the Day Madeleine Begins Draft Two...
But now the day is over; it's evening, cocktail hour, and I just began my revision. I began it by reading the first few pages of my book. Then I decided that I needed to write on the Mildred--right now--so thus far I have only spent 10 minutes of my day revising my book. The rest of the day was spent rearranging my apartment with Agnes and creating my new office space, having lunch with Agnes and Our Dear Reader, visiting Our Dear Reader's apartment, returning home and catching up with the day's news, checking my email, balancing my checkbook, and talking about starting my revision.
I am recording my day's activities here on the Mildred because I want to make sure that too many days are not spent this way. Or lost this way.
Good news is that I liked the first few pages of the book that I read. "Liked" isn't the right word, really, but after reading them I felt like I could fix them and wanted to work on them. Of course I didn't work on them, I wrote on the Mildred instead, so...
This post is annoying me. I am going to end it now.
I am recording my day's activities here on the Mildred because I want to make sure that too many days are not spent this way. Or lost this way.
Good news is that I liked the first few pages of the book that I read. "Liked" isn't the right word, really, but after reading them I felt like I could fix them and wanted to work on them. Of course I didn't work on them, I wrote on the Mildred instead, so...
This post is annoying me. I am going to end it now.
Saturday, November 12, 2011
Madeleine Knows...And Feels Relieved
I know what the end of the story I am currently slogging through is going to be, by which I mean that I figured out what is happening and who is involved in the last paragraph of the last story, which will also be the last paragraph of my book. I am relieved!
This is not to say that the paragraph won't change when I actually write it--I haven't written it yet, but I've taken notes--but at least I know where the last story is going. And it is uplifting, I think, this paragraph. Uplifting for me, anyway.
I just remembered writing about the "dreaded paragraph" for quite a time back when I started the Mildred with Agnes. The dreaded paragraph must have been in Story 1. This paragraph did not turn into a dreaded paragraph, which seems to me progress.
I am trying to think of this story as just another story, but it's difficult, because it's the last story, and this will be the last paragraph people read of this book, if anyone ever reads it, and it's bound to carry a little more weight than most other paragraphs in the book.
Again, I am relieved. No more sadness or bleakity for Madeleine. For now...
This is not to say that the paragraph won't change when I actually write it--I haven't written it yet, but I've taken notes--but at least I know where the last story is going. And it is uplifting, I think, this paragraph. Uplifting for me, anyway.
I just remembered writing about the "dreaded paragraph" for quite a time back when I started the Mildred with Agnes. The dreaded paragraph must have been in Story 1. This paragraph did not turn into a dreaded paragraph, which seems to me progress.
I am trying to think of this story as just another story, but it's difficult, because it's the last story, and this will be the last paragraph people read of this book, if anyone ever reads it, and it's bound to carry a little more weight than most other paragraphs in the book.
Again, I am relieved. No more sadness or bleakity for Madeleine. For now...
Friday, November 11, 2011
Madeleine's (Sad? Bleak?) Thoughts on Her Latest Story and Her (Sad? Bleak?) Life
It's not working.
I am not enjoying it at all.
It is so flat.
I am forcing it.
I want it to be short.
I want it to be unlike the other stories.
I want it to be uplifting, but only at the end.
The last paragraph will be uplifting, but not too uplifting.
I can't write uplifting.
I don't mean "uplifting," I mean something else but don't have the word for it.
That's the problem--I don't have the word for it.
The opposite of bleak.
Writing this blog post is so much more enjoyable than writing the story.
I don't have a title for it.
I don't like the title of this blog post.
The other stories had the title first.
Maybe I should come up with a title first like I did with the other stories.
Time is passing and I must meet my self-imposed deadline.
The second draft is going to be really hard.
What if, after all this, I can't finish the second draft?
I will feel awful.
I am feeling awful about it already.
I know, Dear Reader, I should not think that far ahead, stay in the now, etc., etc., but it's hard not to think about it.
I have spent all this time and I've told people that I'm almost finished with draft one and that draft two will be finished in April.
I told them to make it more real, but I shouldn't have told anyone.
I will feel like a failure.
I will be a failure.
Agnes will still love me, possibly.
No she will love me, but she will be disappointed or at least she will be the opposite of proud.
That's a good title: The Opposite of Proud
Another good title I thought of this week: Please Don't Bring a Guest
Neither of those titles work for this story.
I never meet my self-imposed deadlines.
Think of something positive, quick: I know what happens in the story.
The story does not have to be long.
The story functions more like a coda, or should function that way.
The second to last story is the more important story, and the story before that is even more important.
This last story is not so important.
If I could finish this story, then I could move on and start rewriting.
I have been wanting to rewrite for months now, I love rewriting, I love polishing sentences, but I have to come up with a new process for rewriting, and that will be hard.
I don't want to fall into the old traps, i.e., take six months to rewrite a story.
I have two weeks to rewrite each story.
Is that enough?
Quick, another positive thought: I know what my next book is going to be about.
It will be a short book, and I will write it fast.
I just thought of a title for the story, but it's an old title, and I really don't like it. That's why I didn't use it the first time.
The book, the current book, I mean, is about time passing and I am thinking about time passing.
It's about time.
I have to give this post an uplifting ending, because it will make me feel better.
I have so many pages written!
I wrote so many pages!
Even if I change every single page, at least I have those pages to change.
That uplifting ending sounds forced.
I want the ending of my book to be like the end of Penelope Fitzgerald's novel, The Gate of Angels.
I remember thinking 15 pages from the end of that book, how is she going to get to the inevitable end, and then she did it, and then the book was over.
Endings are hard.
I am not enjoying it at all.
It is so flat.
I am forcing it.
I want it to be short.
I want it to be unlike the other stories.
I want it to be uplifting, but only at the end.
The last paragraph will be uplifting, but not too uplifting.
I can't write uplifting.
I don't mean "uplifting," I mean something else but don't have the word for it.
That's the problem--I don't have the word for it.
The opposite of bleak.
Writing this blog post is so much more enjoyable than writing the story.
I don't have a title for it.
I don't like the title of this blog post.
The other stories had the title first.
Maybe I should come up with a title first like I did with the other stories.
Time is passing and I must meet my self-imposed deadline.
The second draft is going to be really hard.
What if, after all this, I can't finish the second draft?
I will feel awful.
I am feeling awful about it already.
I know, Dear Reader, I should not think that far ahead, stay in the now, etc., etc., but it's hard not to think about it.
I have spent all this time and I've told people that I'm almost finished with draft one and that draft two will be finished in April.
I told them to make it more real, but I shouldn't have told anyone.
I will feel like a failure.
I will be a failure.
Agnes will still love me, possibly.
No she will love me, but she will be disappointed or at least she will be the opposite of proud.
That's a good title: The Opposite of Proud
Another good title I thought of this week: Please Don't Bring a Guest
Neither of those titles work for this story.
I never meet my self-imposed deadlines.
Think of something positive, quick: I know what happens in the story.
The story does not have to be long.
The story functions more like a coda, or should function that way.
The second to last story is the more important story, and the story before that is even more important.
This last story is not so important.
If I could finish this story, then I could move on and start rewriting.
I have been wanting to rewrite for months now, I love rewriting, I love polishing sentences, but I have to come up with a new process for rewriting, and that will be hard.
I don't want to fall into the old traps, i.e., take six months to rewrite a story.
I have two weeks to rewrite each story.
Is that enough?
Quick, another positive thought: I know what my next book is going to be about.
It will be a short book, and I will write it fast.
I just thought of a title for the story, but it's an old title, and I really don't like it. That's why I didn't use it the first time.
The book, the current book, I mean, is about time passing and I am thinking about time passing.
It's about time.
I have to give this post an uplifting ending, because it will make me feel better.
I have so many pages written!
I wrote so many pages!
Even if I change every single page, at least I have those pages to change.
That uplifting ending sounds forced.
I want the ending of my book to be like the end of Penelope Fitzgerald's novel, The Gate of Angels.
I remember thinking 15 pages from the end of that book, how is she going to get to the inevitable end, and then she did it, and then the book was over.
Endings are hard.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)