I like to let my work sit. Not all writers do. Since I have multiple projects (including novels, short stories, non-fiction, and poetry) on the go at any one time, and I'm always ahead of schedule, I can afford to do this. I typically let my work sit for six months. This gives me time to rethink what I've written, but having a time limit on how long a book or poem is allowed to sit for keeps me from toying with it needlessly (and forever).
When I do revisit my older works, I inevitably find things to change. This is great. It means that the book, poem, or article will go off to the editor/publisher as polished as possible. I'm finding things that weren't perfect the first time around and making the entire work better. There can't be anything wrong with this. Can there?
Well, let's talk about the torment of the entire situation. If I read a sentence and can't believe I wrote it, it's a little bit of a blow. Not a big one. I'm a writer, I can cope with changes (whether those are made by me or someone else). Still ... the idea that I could write a sentence that isn't perfect is annoying. Yes, I know perfection is unattainable, but that's not the point. Revising is still not a lot of fun.
I typically revise for three weeks. That's it. I don't make any changes after that unless asked to by the publisher/editor. I should be happy, right? I am. Right up until I read my own book a year later. I always find something I wish I could change. A piece of plot I didn't include. A minor character I didn't flesh out. A word I wouldn't have used. Dialogue that could have been wittier.
In most cases, the work has already been published and it relatively unchangeable. Even if I could change it, it's not usually a good idea to make significant changes. So I have to live with an imperfect work. And that can make me just a little sad.
But there's a bright spot in all of this. When I look back on books written three or more years ago and I note all the things I'd change, all the things I'd do better, I'm heartened. I've progressed as a writer. I'm better at my job now than I was three years ago. And three years from now I'll be better at my job than I am now.
I'm growing as a writer. The torment of knowing that there are things I'd change in past books is lessened by the knowledge that each subsequent book is better than the last. And this is a wonderful thing.
I spent most of this week populating my novels with new and unique characters. It's a novelists job, to keep pumping out the characters. And I don't like limp characters in my novels. I like people with spunk, who are exciting and fun to be around. Bascially, I like realistic characters. But, when you've written dozens of stories, you start to run out of new characters.
Or do you? Look around you. Maybe not right now as you might be sitting on your computer in your own home. But next time you're out for a walk or on your way to work, glance around. There are people. More people if you live in the city, but there are still people out in the country. People going to work, people you live with, extended family. We all know some people. And we can observe more still. With so many people around, how can any writer claim to run out of characters for a book?
So this week I looked around. I watched friends and family, I watched people at the grocery store, and I watched families as I took my own children sledding this past weekend. Some of these people probably thought I was pretty strange with my notepad and pen, but that's okay. I watched and I listened. And I had a lot of fun as I realized once again that people are just plain weird. "Truth is stranger than fiction" has never been more real than it was this past week.
But all these people will make great characters. And I had a lot of fun imagining what they'd do in the situations in my novels. It was exciting and entertaining and certainly useful. There are so many different people in the world that I quickly found myself with more characters than I needed. Some of them are neatly written down and stored in my filing cabinet for future use in whatever story I come up with next.
So if you're having trouble creating well rounded characters, look to your neighbors. And your family. And whoever else you happen to encounter. Then insert them into a fictional situation and see what happens. Just remember to change everyone's name so they don't recognize themselves!
This has been a bit of a tough week for me. It's now December and I'm rushing a bit to complete all my 2012 projects before 2013 sneaks up on us. I'm finishing two non-fiction books, have a children's novel that I swore to my editor would be finished a month ago, and I'm revising and editing The Courtship, which is due out next year. I'd consider rewriting the entire thing, but I think my editor might come at me with a pitchfork if I do that again.
So this had been a tough week. Too much to do and not quite enough time to finish it all. So what did I do? I took a nap. That's right. Four projects that really should have been finished in November still sitting on my plate, and I decide to take a good long nap. Why? Because when we sleep, we dream. And dreams inspire us.
I certainly needed some of that inspiration this week. Writing a novel is a tricky thing. It needs skill, talent, luck, and inspiration. I can command the skill and the talent, and the luck is usually with me anyway, but the inspiration can run off just when I needed it most. So I used my dreams as a source of inspiration. People in my dreams became characters in my novels. Places become settings I'm proud of. Plots come out of the rather random things that happen in my dreams. And it all comes together, sometimes over several nights (or widely spaced naps).
This is what I did this week. And while it might seem like I spent a lot of time doing nothing but sleeping, I actually got far more done this week than I did last week. If the next four week go as well, I'll meet my goals with time to spare.
Here's hoping.
