Getting ready

Ready, Set, Go...

Can you picture yourself on the playground in grade school? Restlessly standing before a line that someone has drawn in the dirt with a stick--getting ready to race across the schoolyard, and hopefully beat that kid who sits behind you in class. You know, the one who mocks your every effort? (Come on, every class had one of those, didn't they?)

Once and for all, you're going to show everyone what you can do. You can win this race!

Well, I'm getting ready...

As everyone whose read this blog more than once knows, I've written a book. And that--for me--is a huge accomplishment. This book has (nearly) taken over my every waking thought, my every conversation, and a very large portion of my time for nearly a year now. It's almost time to send it out into the world.

Is it ready to go?

I'm not sure, but I think it's almost there. And I am now in  "getting ready" mode. I'm writing synopses, query letters, and researching publishers. I'm revising and playing tennis with the words (you know,  back and forth across the net...is this word better here--or that one?)

The line is being drawn, and I'm getting ready to run. That mocking voice in my head? I think it's mine this time...

But I'm determined to win.

On Revisions

Last week, after a meeting with the Chair of my committee, I took a metaphorical axe (at his suggestion) and carved out about 7000 words from my novel. It was a bit painful at first. Watching that word count grow had been—after my trip to Iowa—the highlight of my summer. 

Watching it drop wasn’t nearly as much fun!

In one moment, it fell from 78,000+ words to about 71,000. It has since fallen to about 68,000—before climbing again to nearly 71,000 with the addition of a new chapter. Yet, cutting out all those words I slaved over has been a very good thing!

The beginning of the story feels tighter and more focused—and why not? I know what it’s about now, much more than I did when I first started writing. It’s become easier to tell what’s important for the reader to know, and what is just me riffing with an idea. 

It’s starting to feel like a real book.

Are there more revisions ahead? Of course. There will probably be hundreds more words that disappear from the page before I’m finished. But there will likely be—at least in some spots—others that either take their places, or fill in gaps I hadn’t seen in the beginning (like that new chapter I’m working on now).

When I first started writing papers in college, the call for revisions seemed like a punishment. Now I understand it a little better. It’s a re-visioning of the story you are trying to tell. As you understand it better, you’ll want to tell it differently—to be as sure as you can that your readers will follow.

Which they won’t…if they can’t see that where you’re going is someplace they want to go, too.

In search of a plan

I think I’m having a mid-life crisis. (Can I still do that after 55?)

In six weeks—more or less—my formal education will be complete. Although I am currently carrying 15 graduate credits, I haven’t been in a classroom as a student since June. That part of my education is over—and I have to admit, I miss it. The give and take of discussion. Examining new ideas with classmates. Writing papers.

(I love writing papers!)

Yes, I’m still doing a lot of writing. I’m in the midst of final revisions for my project and defense, and I’ve recently written a one page synopsis for my novel (the shortest and most difficult writing assignment I’ve had in a while). I’m getting ready to start working on a query letter to send out to publishers in hopes of drumming up some interest for my novel. I’m revising one paper for publication in an online journal and getting ready to submit another in hopes of acceptance. And, I’m doing an independent study on the use of journals in the writing classroom. I’ve got plenty to do for the next six weeks.

But, when those weeks are up, I have no idea what will come next—and for someone who likes their ducks in a row…that’s really hard. Really hard.

Not having a plan is not really the problem, though. The problem is that I have no idea what I might want the plan to be. Do I want to get a job—and if so, what kind? Do I still want to teach? Depends on what day of the week it is. Do I want to write another book

?

Shouldn’t I know what I want to be when I grow up by now?

I could take some time off and think about it, but I don’t do time off very well. 

The rational part of my brain reminds me that life can only be lived one day at a time, but the rest? The not-so-rational part?

It wants a plan…