slightly incoherent due to revision brain

What’s Up Wednesday, 1/8

WUW7

What’s Up Wednesday is a weekly meme that helps readers and writers touch base with blog friends. If you’d like to join in, you can find the link widget on Jaime’s and Erin’s blog posts. I love this idea because it gives a structured, easy way for me to keep up with blogging. Also, the buttons are cute. Thanks for the idea, Jaime and Erin! 

What I’m Reading 
Escaping the Polar Vortex by reading Printz winner Nick Lake’s Hostage Three, a smart, addictive, and chilling-in-a-figurative-way contemporary thriller about a teen girl on a yacht boarded by pirates in the Gulf of Aden.

What I’m Writing   
After taking December off from writing (which was wonderful in the way that you start longing to write again and sneakily daydream about characters, but also really enjoy the time to watch movies and read and sleep), I’m back to revising a MG manuscript. I love this story, and since I’ve had a long time away from it, I’m full of fresh ideas.

What Inspires Me Right Now

The new year! Reading everyone’s words for 2014 has given me so many great ideas on what to focus on this year. My word is open–what’s yours?

What Else I’ve Been Up To 
Lots of yoga, lots of work on promo for When Audrey Met Alice, and lots of time Googling images of beaches and warm places to distract myself from the temperature outside.

So what have you been up to lately?

My Word for 2014

Last year, my word for 2013 was balance. While I do think that having that word at the forefront of my mind helped me take at least a few steps toward a more balanced life, I still have a lot of work to do with that word. But 2014 is a new year, so I needed a new word.

For 2014, I’m choosing: open.

As I look back over my 2013 posts, I realize that I didn’t blog much about what’s been going on in my writing life. That’s partly because after starting a new job last January, I found I had a lot less time for blogging and social media in general (sad face). But honestly, I think it’s also that as I moved further into the publishing process, the more I found myself retreating a bit, at least online. Working toward publishing When Audrey Met Alice has been a joyful experience, by and large–but like any big life thing, it’s brought some stressors along with the good stuff. I found myself nervous about sharing both the many good things (I guess I have that Midwestern sensibility of not tooting one’s own horn) and the few things that scared me. The thing I’m starting to realize, though, is that writing with a goal of publication means putting yourself out there in the world, and that’s an okay thing. You have to be open to the possibilities. And I truly believe that the best writing comes from an open mind and an open heart, and I want to keep improving my craft this year.

Perhaps because I often felt overwhelmed by juggling day-job work, writing work, a move, and everything else last year, I found myself closing off a little in other ways. Sometimes I met invitations and opportunities with a cringe (Where am I going to find the time for that!) instead of an excited or appreciative smile. Sometimes I just got really anxious, or exhausted-cranky. I’d like to shift that attitude a bit, and show thankfulness for all of the great things in my life by approaching it by being a little more receptive.

I’ve never been super comfortable with sharing too much personal stuff online (hello, introversion), and I don’t think that’s going to change. But I feel such gratitude for all the honest posts I’ve read from writers at various stages of the publishing process the past two weeks. So in addition to trying to approach IRL things with a spirit of openness, I want to approach online life with a bit more of that, too. Like by saying right now that as excited as I am for my book to come out in less than a month(!), I’m pretty nervous, too.

So, hello, 2014. I am taking deep breath and doing a stretchy yoga move, and trying to greet everything that’s in store for me this year with . . . openness.

(What’s your word for this new year?)

Blog Remodel

Considering I have been kind of lax about blogging lately (revisions! end of summer! lots of work at work! travel! an overwhelming desire to watch television and eat pizza!), I doubt many noticed yesterday that my blog/site had a little change-up.
www.rebeccabehrens.com will soon be my shiny new website, as designed by Biondo Studio. (Expect a really gushing testimonial about how great Denise and John at Biondo are, soon.) In the meantime, my blog is going to be back at its weird old blogspot address, vicariousreader.blogspot.com. Once all the web design stuff is done, and I have figured out how to use WordPress, my blog will be found within my website. I am not smart enough about web design and the Internets to explain more of what we are doing in terms of the domain transfer, existing followers, etc., but the long-short of it is that you can still follow me here for now, and soon I’ll see you at my shiny new site!

In the meantime, how are you?

Mad for MG: Why Write MG?

A question I get asked a lot is why I write MG. The shortest answer is: I like it. For a slightly longer but still not comprehensive answer, check out the Mad for MG feature at the OneFour Kid Lit blog today, in which all of us ’14-debut MG writers talk about why we’ve found a home in this category. Also, we have pictures. (Spoiler alert: Mine is not from when I was a middle-grader. I swear that’s not to spare myself from having photographic evidence of my awkward phase on the Internet, but just because I am old enough that all middle-school pictures of me are in albums and not on my computer.)

Go here
for the post:

Mad for Middle Grade: Why MG?

How was your weekend?

MMGM: Small Medium at Large

Marvelous Middle-Grade Monday is hosted every Monday by Shannon Messenger. Today I want to talk about Joanne Levy’s great MG, Small Medium at Large.

From the publisher (Bloomsbury):
After she’s hit by
lightning at a wedding, twelve-year-old Lilah Bloom develops a new
talent: she can hear dead people. Among them, there’s her
overopinionated Bubby Dora; a prissy fashion designer; and an
approval-seeking clown who livens up a séance. With Bubby Dora leading
the way, these and other sweetly imperfect ghosts haunt Lilah through
seventh grade, and help her face her one big fear: talking to—and
possibly going to the seventh-grade dance with—her crush, Andrew Finkel.

Possibly my favorite type of middle-grade book blends realistic characters, settings, and experiences with just a touch of something magical–an element beyond suspension of disbelief (like a main character who becomes world-famous for bird calls) but less than true magical realism or fantasy (like a main character who discovers she can fly). Ghosts and light paranormal often hit this imagination sweet spot–or in the case of Small Medium at Large, a lightning-strike-induced ability to hear dead people.

Small Medium at Large
is sweetly funny and highly relatable (ghostly voices aside). Who wouldn’t want to imagine a world in which those who have passed surround and support us through–particularly through the trials and tribulations of the seventh grade? From the clever title to poignant interactions with a variety of ghosts to Lilah’s witty voice, this was an absolutely charming book. Now that I’m done with it, I kind of want to dust off my Ouija board. 🙂

What MG have you read lately? 

Revise like an Improviser

Over the years I’ve gotten to learn a little bit about sketch comedy and improv because my husband is a long-time performer. I’m always amazed when I watch his shows at how the spontaneous collaboration works. Whenever someone onstage gets an idea rolling, the other performers embrace and expand it, and more often than not a pretty coherent story blossoms out of something as small as a single word. Considering that as many as half-dozen people are creating the story without actually negotiating the content, that’s impressive. I mean, I sometimes fight too much with myself to get anything on the page.

“Always say yes” is a rule in improv, and it’s a big part of what makes this creativity and collaboration possible. (Tina Fey talked about it in Bossypants and explains how saying yes changed her life here.) At its most basic, the idea applies to how you respond to the other performers within a scene. If you start with the intention that your scene is set in Antarctica, it’s your collaborator’s job to say yes to that idea. Not to think, No–we’re not in Antarctica; we’re at the mall on Black Friday. My idea is better; I’m changing this. No matter how wacked out the idea is, just go with it.

It’s even better to say “Yes, and . . . ” Build on ideas. So your partner places you in a scene in Antarctica, and you respond with “Yes, and we’re here because the plane crashed and now we’re stranded like the guys in the movie Alive.” And your partner might respond with, “Yes, and we would consider cannibalism to survive except we’re part of a group traveling home from a veganism conference.” And so on.

If someone refuses to say yes, things shut down. If someone doesn’t say “yes, and,” it doesn’t build. The same is true for revising.

Whenever you’re revising, and particularly when your revision involves the collaboration of someone else–like a CP, or an agent, or an editor–it’s good to keep an open mind. Approach the work with the mindset of saying yes, and–not with a mindset of no, because. Of course, this is easier said than done–nobody wants to kill his or her darlings, and a lot of times saying no is a reaction to that desire to retain and protect what we’ve worked so hard to create. Saying yes doesn’t mean blindly accepting suggestions, but pushing back out of instinct, or the need to control, instead of for a good reason can be limiting. Adding the “and” can be a way to make sure you take suggestions in a direction that’s right for you. Saying yes, and keeping yourself open to fresh ideas and collaboration, is a way to grow as a writer and a storyteller–and a way to make the revision process more creative.

So, writer friends: do you have a hard time saying yes to changes during revisions? How do you collaborate in the writing process?

The Hippocratic Oath for Revisions

This week I’m returning to a sh!tty first draft from a long hiatus. It’s been so long and the draft is so raw that I don’t know whether to call this an extension of drafting, rewriting, or revising. It’ll probably be all three.

I get nervous when I start a revision, for a lot of reasons but mostly because I’m afraid of making the MS worse. The phrase that pops in my head as I work is a famous one from the Hippocratic Oath, “First, do no harm.” [Oh, wait. Apparently that line was never explicitly stated in the actual oath itself.] Anyway, my manuscript is like a sick patient and I’m standing at the operating table, scalpel in hand, not totally sure what to do. All I know is that I want the story to get better, and I better not hurt it.

It makes me wish that there was a writers’ Hippocratic Oath for Revisions; something to guide the process or the way I should approach the daunting work. So I wrote one.

The Hippocratic Oath for Revisions/Rewrites
—Adapted from the Modern Hippocratic Oath, which was written in 1964 by Louis Lasagna, Academic Dean of the School of Medicine at Tufts University. The Modern Hippocratic Oath is used in many medical schools today. Full text of the oath: The Hippocratic Oath Today

I swear to fulfill, to the best of my ability and judgment, this covenant:

I will respect the hard work I already have done on this manuscript, and I will gladly view this revision (including its successes and missteps) as a learning experience for the manuscripts to follow.

I will apply, for the benefit of the sick story, all measures [that] are required to make it well, avoiding those twin traps of overcorrection and “therapeutic nihilism,” or the idea that fixing what is wrong with the story is impossible.

I will remember that there is science to writing as well as art. I will seek out craft advice as well as my own creativity. I will remember that showing warmth, sympathy, and understanding to myself, the author, may outweigh draconian work schedules or self-criticism. (Conversely, I will commit to regular and focused work on the task at hand.)

I will not be ashamed to say “I know not,” nor will I fail to call in my beta readers, CPs, and writing friends when the skills of another are needed for a manuscript’s recovery.

When making changes, I will remember this: First, do no harm. I will prevent creating new problems whenever I can, for prevention is preferable to cure. Most especially must I tread with care in matters of cutting and adding. If it is given me to save a book, all thanks. But it may also be within my power to trunk a book; this awesome responsibility must be faced with great humbleness and awareness of my own strengths and weaknesses. 

I will remember that I remain a member of the writing community, with special obligations to all my fellow writers as well as readers. I will respect the great storytelling tradition as I work. I will think of words and meaning, not sales figures and markets.

If I do not violate this oath, may I enjoy life and art, respected while I live and remembered with affection thereafter. May I always act so as to preserve the finest traditions of my calling and may I long experience the joy of writing. Even in the midst of revisions.

So, writer friends: What have I left out of the oath? Or what should be cut?

Revision Trick: Synopsize Me

I know, I know. Synopses are devilish. But hear me out on this one.
I always start revisions by reading through my WIP, fighting the urge to make line edits the whole time. (If I let myself start making edits, I would never get through the read. So if something is really important, I jot it down on my ongoing revisions list, which is usually the length of Ulysses by the time I start revising.) But this time, to help keep my hands busy while I read, I synopsized my WIP. The urge to line-edit disappeared.

I didn’t mind writing the synopsis while doing my first read-through, mainly because I (apparently) forgot what happened in roughly 40% of my WIP. So I wasn’t slogging through dialogue I had memorized and scenes seared into my brain–the story was fresh, and I found it interesting to summarize each chapter after I read it. There’s a reason why teachers make kids summarize/retell as techniques for monitoring comprehension. It works. I remember all of my WIP after synopsizing it.

Summarizing/synopsizing helped me see the places in the WIP where eighty billion things happen at once (I’m looking at you, Chapter 14) and those where nothing happens for a really, really long time and it’s boring. I can clearly see where the pacing needs work. My synopsis is also helping me figure out where I might place the scenes I want to add and where certain subplots disappear/appear. I’m the type of person who needs to be able to see the big picture a lot while revising. My synopsis will now be my map.

For each round of revision I start on this WIP, I’m going to start by updating my synopsis with a read-through. It’ll both refresh my memory and show me which parts saw the most/least work. The best part? By the time I’m done with revisions once and for all*, I’ll have a synopsis ready should I ever need it.

*”once and for all” = for now, because I am a compulsive reviser

Have you ever used a synopsis to help with the early rounds of revision, writer friends? What are your revision tricks? Spill!

Chunk It.

I adopted a nifty, new (to me) process while revising my WIP: chunking.

chunking • \chung’ king\ v. 1 the processing of splitting an overwhelming MS into “chunks,” or parts, in order to revise the whole by parts.

I didn’t set out to chunk my MS on purpose, but it was already split into distinct parts because it has two POVs. I wrote the two POVs separately, mainly because I don’t like switching back and forth while writing and also I wanted each narrative to stand on its own. I am about to finally stitch the two together, once I go through POV #1 one more time with my little red pencil. 
Because the story alternates between those two POVs, each narrative already has distinct breaks. This meant that when I started revising I had 2 narratives, one with 4 parts and one with 5. 
(All these numbers are confusing me already. TOO MUCH MATH FOR WRITING! And I even like math.)
Anyway, I’ve been revising each part on its own, in preparation for revising the story as a whole. And you know what? Chunking was super-helpful! Focusing on sections of the story on a micro-level was so manageable. I had none of those, OMG, what am I going to do with the end of this book?!? moments because I was just focusing on the chunk at hand.
Of course, chunking can only be part of the revision process, otherwise the larger story arc will likely not work. That’s what I’m about to start working on, smoothing over the story on the macro level [bites nails]. Knowing that my chunks are pretty solid [that phrase . . . makes me think of barf. Sorry.] makes me feel refreshingly confident going in, though.

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