Knit One, Purl Two

Okay, so there's this manuscript lying in the drawer, after several years maturing or moldering in the darkness, waiting, just waiting for the tug on the handle that exposes it once more to the harsh light of day.  A manuscript that found its way into hibernation after a few major agents said it came oh, so close; a boutique literary publishing house had four folks give it a read before passing; and a well-known figure in the editing world read the entire piece (as a favor, not for a fee) and called the novel "bold and accomplished, absolutely publishable." Readers enjoyed the retelling of a little known Civil War character's experiences, found the settings and the territory in the heartland of Kentucky and Tennessee evocative, the voice and message powerful, and they loved to hate the antagonists.  

So what had gone wrong?



A few readers, most helpfully, had found the protagonist, a woman who, for a short time, had been a spy for the Union army, quite interesting, yet they had trouble really caring about her over the long haul.  Major problem!  So my character got some intense counseling and tried to be more engaging, tried to share more of herself and her inner feelings, her cares and fears and yearnings, and even the way she talked about her husband, to please those folks hovering over the page.  Most readers felt those revisions helped.

So what else?

The real problem, and one I could even see myself once I had completed and fine tuned a few drafts, was the issue of structure.  The novel, at 100,000 words, was simply too heavy for the relatively light and inept support my plot points provided, and yet I found it so hard to unravel the lovely stitching I had created. A few years ago, I gave it a half-hearted attempt, and made what felt like some good progress, but then got sidetracked with a new project due for publication this summer.  So now I have a blank page before me and I look toward that drawer, debating.  Can I do it?  Is it worth all that hard work to find a way to propel the reader more powerfully forward?

But now I've discovered what may be the keys that will be just the thing to guide me through the dismantling and reassembly process, to see if the manuscript deserves another run at publication.  Thanks to a couple friends, I've read--and reread--Robert McKee's Story and Larry Brooks's Story Engineering, a pair of marvelous books detailing their approaches to the hidden underpinnings of structure that make story truly work.  Eureka! 

So, is now the time to pull open that drawer again?