I told another writer, “I wonder if the beginning of your scene would be better if it was chronological.” (It had two short flashbacks to a time shortly before the present time.) Then I realized my current chapter opening wasn’t chronological either! As I rewrote I realized my flashback meant I glossed over an important scene with a summary.
My excuse—it was an old piece of writing. Sometimes words on the page are hard to change. I think I would have been better off starting with a blank document. “To fall in love with the first draft to the point where one cannot change it is to greatly enhance the prospects of never publishing,” said Richard North Patterson. I’d add “any draft.”
I’ve learned a lot since I first wrote that chapter. I’ve even blogged about keeping scenes moment by moment and being on scene for important parts of a story. Obviously, I needed to reread my own posts before tackling this chapter revision.
Amanda Reynolds said, “…compelling scenes in novels are perfectly formed and distinct whilst adhering to the overarching story and theme.” A summary is not compelling. That’s fine, if it’s a simple transition. But in my case it was an argument the main character has with his mother and it affects the whole story! And I’d summarized it! I never would have realized it without critiquing someone else’s writing.
So, how do we let go?
First, be open. Open to change. We have to be prepared to look at our writing with new eyes, even if we’ve been writing for a long time. We have to see what’s actually on the page.
Distance doesn’t always help me with this. So perhaps, I need to examine the purpose of the scene. Why did I write this section? What is it for? What mood do I want to establish? What do I want a reader to garner? In my chapter, it was the inciting incident, not simple backstory where I’d shoved it.
Second, get feedback. A critique of our writing helps us see our blind spots. That means we have to be ready to listen. Willing to think about it. Whether the suggestions are spot on or not, they usually point out something is not working. How we fix it is up to us.
Third, pay attention to what you say to others. You might teach yourself something as I did. Ask yourself questions. Why is this bothering me? When you figure that out, you might discover you have been doing something similar.
Finally, have other projects. Don’t have all your hopes and dreams tied up in a single manuscript. It may be that this is not the right work-in-progress. At least for now. Having another project to work on may let your subconscious work on the story for you and you might come back to it refreshed by the break. Or you may find the other manuscript moves ahead by leaps and bounds and you no longer care so much about the first one.
Letting go is a painful process, but I want to leave you with this encouraging thought from Kelly Barnhill, “That’s the magic of revisions—every cut is necessary, and every cut hurts, but something new always grows.”
