Tag Archives: #revising

Day at the Write-in….

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Spent about six hours of Saturday at our group’s write-in. We had use of an event room with its adjoining kitchen at our library. Some pot luck, a little set-up, and we had ourselves a friendly quiet location dedicated to fostering an atmosphere conducive to writing.

We had people working on designing covers for their self-published books. It’s a two-edged sword when you publish yourself. You’re in charge of everything, but that means you’re responsible for everything.

Someone was outlining a story for our group anthology. Another was working on a script. One was reviewing and revising her long-suffering book outline. Long-suffering only because even she thought she’d been working too long on it, and because the work itself has been intense. We had short stories and verse going on as well, and everyone seemed to make progress, even the writer who had to leave after coming in solely to pick up information.

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It’s great to stop and devote a large chunk of time to writing. I’m lucky enough to be able to do it more regularly than some of my full-time working writer friends. Even so, a special day allowed for special focus. I  hope we follow through on our idea of doing this every couple months.

 

 

 

 

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Be careful what you ask for…

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So, yesterday I posted a little blurb I wrote for Remainder. In full flush of having posted it, I read it last night for my writing group. And, so, the pluses/minuses of being part of a writers group, and hence today’s title, be careful what you ask for.

Because I got the full brunt of their critique. To get right down to it, after setting ego aside, I saw the value of their criticisms. Here, after a bit more work and input from my closest critics, is the revised blurb.

If Wilson Parker better understood what he was taking on when he headed into Remainder, then the town’s future might not come down to a race between him and the son of a dying man.

As the war on terror builds, Wilson’s boss is building one of his infamous planned developments   to show ‘those terrorists’ how successful – and unafraid – America can be.

Encouraged by the eagerness of Ray Boone, who sees booze bottles next to the buyout’s dollar signs and Branden McKewen, who needs to move to New York City to help rebuild, salesman Parker expects property deals to go smoothly.  But success requires the cooperation of the landowners, and they are an independent if not eccentric bunch. As the push-and-pull continues, the life-paths of a dozen or more of Remainder’s residents change. For Wilson Parker and 13-year-old Ty Cummins in particular, this year changes everything.

 

Writing groups are great, and I’m glad I asked their opinion, however humbling an experience it was. I am happy I made the changes I did, as the blurb is both more specific and inclusive of better, more coherent detail. It also struck what I feel is the right note.

It’s a reminder to be willing to let go of our babies, and to consider criticisms respectfully leveled at our  work thoughtfully. I kept what I wanted for the new blurb, and discarded or re-worked the rest. It’s all in the name of making the writing better.

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And it’s on to the next thing

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Hard on the heels of launching REMAINDER and filing taxes and the Easter holiday, I am scrambling to publish the third book in my Mackenzie Wilder/Classic Boat romantic mysteries, FLYING PURPLE PEOPLE SEATER. Working now on final revisions, cover, and formatting as I wonder if going in the direction I did was really a good idea. Ever have those moments?  The ones where you wonder if you just killed your own darling by being daring?

On the other hand, I can honestly say I like what I did with it, especially since it provided me with the epigraphs I love to write. And thanks to my writing group, they turned out pretty nifty. Here’s a couple from FLYING PURPLE PEOPLE SEATER:

Chapter 4

  “What a gas! Bootleggin’ on the river was nothin’ like by car. Bouncin’ across the waves, dodgin’ in and outta the islands… You could slip between two of ’em and no one would know you was there. Especially not the flatfoots they had mindin’ the border… I remember one time, there was this cave I found. I could slide alongside the shore and cut the engine. I’d pole in and angle behind the rocks inside… This time, I gets inside and I’m polin’ back there, and all of a sudden, I can’t go any farther. There’s already a boat in there, and there’s this boat is this guy and a swanky dame with gams that ran from stem to stern smoochin’ like there’s no tomorrow. They couldn’t get out past me, and I couldn’t get past them. We stayed like that for twenty minutes, not lookin’ at each other, just waitin’ to see if the coppers would find us.”

 

Chapter 7

“Me and Pop was never ones for religion. We went to Mass sometimes when Al insisted all the boys show up. But all that Hell and Purgatory stuff, I never believed in that. Irony? Now that I did believe in.”

 

Chapter 14

“I was always the guy everyone talked to – like Lindy. Gettin’ himself into trouble with some dame, which he was always doin’ . He’d come to me for advice on calmin’ the lady down and convincin’ her she’d got everythin’ all wrong. I had to teach him how to treat dames right. Did it, too. Enough so’s Lindy got himself married and had five kids, all girls. Served him right.”

 

I love writing chapter epigraphs. They’re like vignettes that drop clues to what’s happening.

What’s a favorite stylistic thing you do?