Nothing like rekindling your memories of your first great literary love just as a pandemic sweeps through the world.
To be honest, my daily life hasn’t change a whole lot even as everything is canceled and shut down. We already homeschool and we already prefer to stay home as much as we can. I’m used to shopping for a week or two at the time and feeding six people all day, every day. I’d also stocked up a bit because my mother told me to. DJ is working from home for a month, so that’s been a big change for him; but it turns out that my preferred lifestyle adapts pretty well to pandemic living.
While we continue with school and take long drives when the walls start closing in, I immersed myself yet again in that original Great Literary Work of mine.
An advantage of the revision of 2007 was that the story now had a plot. A disadvantage was that for some reason I decided to lower Ria’s age from 18 to 13, and I changed the tone of the story accordingly. It was not a happy choice. Re-reading it was, as my kids would say, massive cringe.
“Most of the time, she was just plain Ria. And this morning she was a very sulky Ria.”
“She didn’t intend to apologize to him, either, once she got her revenge.”
“And to think she’d complained about being bored in her Castle. What a silly little princess she’d been!“
Apparently in 2007 I was temporarily possessed by the spirit of an early 20th-century Sunday school teacher.
Earlier this month, I sat down to rewrite the terrible first chapters, and then send the rest to my sister. But once I got the first part in better shape, I couldn’t leave the rest of the tripe that Miss Flossie Jones of Millerville Baptist Church, circa 1902, communicated through me.
So for the past two weeks I’ve worked my way through the story, smoothing out the dialogue, creating better conflicts, and removing the saccharine moralization.
Since I returned Ria’s age to 18, I also reintroduced the romance that Flossie seemed very uncomfortable with. I suspect it was this aspect that made me decide to lower the age in the first place. I spent my teenage years in a real-life version of the Fellowship, so even at 30 I didn’t know quite how to handle romance in fiction.
The hardest part of the rewriting was Ria herself. She was a typical first-timer’s heroine. She had no real motivation, and she spent the whole story being propelled by other people’s decisions. She was also, as a writer friend of mine put it, “insufficiently hobbied.” What did Ria like to do in her spare time? The answer appeared to be “ride horses and complain about having nothing to do.” Ria’s sister, on the other hand, is always designing clever contraptions and figuring out how things work. She would have made a far better heroine. But this is The Ria Story, so I just had to try to work with what I had.
It was a lot of work… but so much fun. I stopped worrying about the unfixable worldbuilding problems and just let the story be what it is. Yesterday I finished it and emailed it to my sister. It’s not a great story, but I think I made it into a solidly “okay” story.
And now I’m at loose ends again.
Well, unless you count my actual serious novel. I’ve left Richmal and Co. cooling their heels in the third draft for nearly two months now. I’ve been stuck on a pretty thorny plot problem. Oh, hey, here’s a message from a reader who has a suggestion! BlessedAssurance.millertownbc points out that Richmal’s story features a lot more kissing than it does Bible reading, and she would be happy to take over the writing for a while.
Get thee behind me, Flossie.
4 thoughts on “Revision in a Time of Quarantine”
Clearly you need to start on Bright Eyes, Blue Denim…
Like this formulation: She was also, as a writer friend of mine put it, “insufficiently hobbied.”
I made that mistake, to some extent, in my first novel.
Tim, I’ve grown a lot in my writing, but I’m just not sure I’m ready to handle the explosive rebellious power of denim. Next thing you know, I’ll have my characters listen to Rock Music (TM) and violate the spirit of courtship!
Stuart — yes, it seems to be the plight of most early protagonists. I think it’s because we write the story through the protagonist’s eyes, so he/she turns into a mere vehicle to observe the MUCH more interesting side characters. I’ve wrestled with many a heroine since then, demanding that she tell me what on earth she WANTS out of life — or even for Christmas, for heaven’s sake.