So my stale manuscript (see Knit One,
Purl Two…Rip it Apart) has been out of the drawer and warming in the light of
day for several weeks now, and I’ve found myself with more energy and
enthusiasm for a project than I’ve felt for a good while. There’s some
pretty good writing in this thing, woohoo! Okay, and I’ve also found a
few more darlings and dispatched them heartlessly.
My first real steps in the process were
to read the old synopsis and the chapter outline of the novel, making a few
notes on areas that seemed to be more sideways motion than forward
action. I then dug into my “manifesto,” a somewhat random compilation of
notes and ideas and sketches one of my former grad program mentors, Melissa
Pritchard, had encouraged me to write to serve as a holding area of thoughts
and debates on the project. That was well before the days of Scrivener,
of course, but that's another post or two. Over the years, I’ve added to
my manifesto by entering new elements, bullet point fashion, at the top of the
first page rather than at the end, so my latest ideas and critiques and notes
are the first thing I see.
My goal with the reading of the synopsis
and outline was to see how the project fit, structurally, within the guidelines
of Larry Brooks’s excellent book Story Engineering, since the majority of the feedback
on why the novel didn’t work had to do with a lack of consistent forward
direction and increasing overall tension. It turned out that, in an
overall sense, I had my plot points and pinch points in about the right spots,
so it seemed I needed to dig deeper to see why the novel still wasn't
working. And, after a few productive sessions of staring off into space
and simply trying to BE in the story, I discovered some new, tighter, more
dramatic plot elements and characterization that still maintained much of the
existing action. Perfect!
Tilt.
