Sometimes your work really does suck.
The first book I wrote is wonderful in places, but it’s flawed in too many ways to be fixed without a major rewrite.
My MC’s 19, risky age, being too old for YA, too young for adult. And it has structural failure–the main conflict, dilemma, goal, desire, is resolved before the climax, and it should hold taut until at least that point. It also relies too much on coincidence and may break true FBI procedure. I love quality enough to know this book just isn’t publishable.
Practicing, getting your work critiqued and reading about craft & for pleasure will help you recognize the good, the bad and the ugly in your work.
When I wrote my second novel, Kings & Queens, I better understood structure. In that, readers and my MC are aware of a massacre plot in chapter 1, and the whole truth about the why, who and how is not revealed to readers or my MC until the epilogue.
Not everyone can do that, and I’m not saying you have to stretch it THAT far, but to have a hooky work—which is the best kind IMO—the big concern presented at the onset shouldn’t be resolved until as late as possible, and definitely not until the climax.
Sometimes your work IS good, but needs the perspective of others besides your mom to make it oh-so-fabulous.
Don’t be afraid of criticism. Yes, that’s your baby, and yes, you have a delicate soul, but most critters want to help you take you and your work to a higher level. Take what works for your story and ditch the rest.
Hate your work enough to be objective and at least consider that they may be right. After several people complained of things being confusing, I changed things to bring clarity.
And sometimes your work IS almost ready for shelves, but could still use another glance over.
Definitely do it. Go over it one more time, looking at everything: flow, meter, voice, grammatical errors, wordiness. I’ll probably keep toiling and tweaking until I’m signed.
With my edit this past spring spring though, in trying to get work count down, I stripped out nearly every adjective and got sentences down to bare bones, and the writing lost its sparkle and MY VOICE. Not good! So, I ended up replacing a lot of what I cut and just decided I’d reached my word count and that was that.
Well, I really need a much smaller word count. So this week, I decided to go at it again, but I set out with a different tactic. Here are the ways I was able to trim, no lie, 1300 words from my first SEVEN chapters. Yippee! And the cool thing is the scenes don’t seem any emptier. They’re not sparse or choppy. The flow is nice. I’m very happy. It’s just kind of embarrassing that I had that much to trim and didn’t see it. You can keep these tips in mind if your work is in need of a major hack-and-slash.
Ø For the most part, keep modifiers to one per noun. Slay extra extras. Removing ALL strips out color, so don’t do that. Rather, go for vivid, concise pictures. Is it really important to say his polo shirt’s blue? If he gets mistaken for someone else wearing a similar shirt, then his shirt color factors into plot. Keep it. Just consider everything, whether it’s needed or not.
Ø Choose punchy verbs over an adverb-verb combo.
Ø Omit unnecessary dialogue tags, action or anything that disrupts flow during a conversation.
Ø Examine dialogue and say the same thing in fewer words. I hacked off so much when I broke speech down to the guts.
Ø Take a machete to exposition. Since it’s the Narrator spilling info, it pulls readers from the scene and somewhat breaks POV. Examine those scene-killers, hack away, keeping only the most vital bits.
Originally in ch. 1, I stopped to describe this hangout called Spanky’s. The info’ really wasn’t needed. I offed 75 words, keeping the one line that held some voice–a mini-golf/ice cream shop gone wild.
And chapter 4 had four paragraphs describing my character, Derek’s lousy upbringing, thought process, fears, etc. I cut 200 words and it’s now one spiffy graph. What I did keep relates to his thoughts.
Ø Do some telling. I know we’re told to show not tell, but in many cases, showing adds words. Showing is important for engagement, but if you’re a writer with 90-95 show percentage, don’t be afraid to take it down to 70%, or 80 if you’re squeamish about it.
Ø Kill your darlings. Sometimes we love the specific way we word sentences, but look at each construction with fresh eyes and think, can I convey this tighter? Be ruthless. Rewrite and reorganize sentences rather than just trimming down what you’ve got so you can maintain voice.
Ø Look for extraneous articles, prepositions, that’s, evens and other extras that can be cut off and not missed.
Ø Perform magic with better word choices. [e.g. He went up the stairs, two at a time…He whooshed up the stair…He double-stepped the stairs.]
Ø Get in some dirty talking and thoughts. Dialogue doesn’t need to be perfect English and thoughts can be broken because people don’t always think in complete sentences. [e.g. “Can’t wait for football season to start!”…or “Goin’ home?”…”Excited about your new job?”…Boss sucks!]
And people blend many, many words–gotta, wanna, kinda, sorta, hafta, should’ve, that’d (contraction for that would…That’d be okay.). Stripping out formality, when it’s fitting for the speaker, not only trims words, it helps your characters seem more real and you less stuffy.
Ø Expand your vocabulary. Sometimes a perfect, juicy word can replace two or three. [e.g. come up with v. devise.]
Ø And don’t forget to remove as many filters as you can like he saw, she could sense. Just name the stimulus or spill what the character is thinking or experiencing. [e.g. She wondered if he could read her mind. v. Could he read her mind?] If you’re firmly locked into one POV, such trims won’t be jarring at all.
Strangely, with all this excess baggage shed out of my manuscript, I feel refreshed and exhilarated, knowing my work is cleaner and overall better.
Don’t be afraid to have a love-hate relationship with your work. You’ll be a much better writer for it.
All the best!