Post by Daenerys on Jan 25, 2015 19:21:09 GMT
As a young writer, I was in love with the idea of myself as a coffeehouse regular. I was convinced that once I found the right place, I’d peck out literary masterpieces between sips of triple-venti-caramel macchiato-flavored inspiration.
I’d write my novels from beginning to end, as much a passenger for my characters’ journey as their creator. I envisioned myself becoming one with the ambient hum of their caffeinated culture, simultaneously trendy and transcendent. I never once contemplated my editing process, because editing was for people not as cool as I was going to be (and I was going to be so cool)…
As it turns out, I’m allergic to coffee. Also, I have ADD. My most effective writing method has been to pile everything together and figure out what’s fit for human consumption after the fact, not hope for inspiration to drop a novel into my lobes, wholly-formed and perfect. The first editing pass is my saving grace—my friend. Let it be yours, too.
Step One: Give your horrible monster child a good, hard look square in the eye. Figure out what it is. Identify what it isn’t.
Give your tired eyes a break and translate your manuscript to a different form. If it’s longhand, type it up; if it’s digital, print it out.
As you read, find your bare bones. Can you list your characters’ motivations? The main sources of conflict? Would a reader who doesn’t have the benefit of seeing your inner landscape understand what you were trying to get across? Where are the disconnects, if any?
Step Two: Forget it’s your baby. Stab mercilessly.
During NaNoWriMo, word count is king, but I can promise you that not all of your words are good ones. It’s statistically impossible, okay? Just trust me on this. Try to do a cutthroat edit— what is the absolute minimum amount of material that your plot needs to survive? What is truly essential, and what are you clinging to? Does that dialogue need to be said to move the story along, or are you keeping it because you think your audience might not appreciate your cleverness?
Identify and eliminate the elements that have the potential to distract—or, even worse, bore—your readers. Don’t be precious.
Step Three: Save your revised version, then see Step One.
I’d write my novels from beginning to end, as much a passenger for my characters’ journey as their creator. I envisioned myself becoming one with the ambient hum of their caffeinated culture, simultaneously trendy and transcendent. I never once contemplated my editing process, because editing was for people not as cool as I was going to be (and I was going to be so cool)…
As it turns out, I’m allergic to coffee. Also, I have ADD. My most effective writing method has been to pile everything together and figure out what’s fit for human consumption after the fact, not hope for inspiration to drop a novel into my lobes, wholly-formed and perfect. The first editing pass is my saving grace—my friend. Let it be yours, too.
Step One: Give your horrible monster child a good, hard look square in the eye. Figure out what it is. Identify what it isn’t.
Give your tired eyes a break and translate your manuscript to a different form. If it’s longhand, type it up; if it’s digital, print it out.
As you read, find your bare bones. Can you list your characters’ motivations? The main sources of conflict? Would a reader who doesn’t have the benefit of seeing your inner landscape understand what you were trying to get across? Where are the disconnects, if any?
Step Two: Forget it’s your baby. Stab mercilessly.
During NaNoWriMo, word count is king, but I can promise you that not all of your words are good ones. It’s statistically impossible, okay? Just trust me on this. Try to do a cutthroat edit— what is the absolute minimum amount of material that your plot needs to survive? What is truly essential, and what are you clinging to? Does that dialogue need to be said to move the story along, or are you keeping it because you think your audience might not appreciate your cleverness?
Identify and eliminate the elements that have the potential to distract—or, even worse, bore—your readers. Don’t be precious.
Step Three: Save your revised version, then see Step One.
found at blog.nanowrimo.org/post/107607079586/3-steps-to-turn-your-manuscript-from-monster-to