Hi, and the power of the total rewrite
Hello Uncle Jim and all,
You know, I must have run into the water cooler quite a bit earlier than I thought I did, because I remember Uncle Jim's advice for odd books to read. And I did read them (I liked Logical Chess, because every time I read it, I become very buff in my chess skillz, but then it evaporates and I need to read it again). I'm probably going to pick up the magic book again, because I think I understand more now....
I'm working my way backwards through this wonderful thread.
And I ran across something I'd forgotten, which is the power of the complete rewrite; pick up your first draft and then type it all back in again, adapting as you go. Or even, in my case, putting the first draft somewhere else and rewriting from scratch, with vague memories to guide me. At this point I would be preaching to the choir, but the power was demonstrated to me quite clearly at one point... which was during a timed contest in high school. So maybe this will be useful to somebody else.
Once upon a time, four student writers (very good, though I question the inclusion of me sometimes still) went into a room, were handed an essay topic, and in two hours each was expected to generate ten pages of prose on it. The best got a neat certificate and some money. Unfortunately, the topic was something I hated---politics. Specifically, something about dealing with violence in America. And yet here I was---locked room, buzzing fluorescent lights, two hours, ten pages.
After the first hour, my approach dead-ended. Completely. I could continue it maybe as a cliche, but I knew it was dead in the water. The clock was ticking. The others were so heads-down... the nightmares of exam times struck me all at once. I desperately thought back to some of the more avant garde texts we'd read in literature, that were about politics yet that I didn't hate and actually finished. A bit of Mark Twain, for instance. Something reversed, perverse, tongue in cheek. 15 minutes of cold sweat passed as I tried to rework my current article. Only 45 minutes left. So I made a last-ditch effort of insanity.
I threw away all my old work and restarted.
I burned---oh how I burned---through text as quickly as I could. I forced my way over all the horrible little bumps, because there just wasn't any time. I made it through all the way to the bell. I handed it in, and thought, crap, what a mess of it, and was depressed in the way only teenagers can be for the whole weekend and then some.
A week later I found out I won.
(Mind you, a similar Twain approach killed my AP test score for English; complete big fat zero, tanked everything else including my outstanding grammar/reading/etc scores, resulting in two years of remedial english/lit classes in college. Which just goes to show that sometimes you just suck. Anyways....)
The certificate was lost, the money was soon spent, but the lesson remained. And until recently I'd forgotten it.
How I do love writing. I'd forgotten. How could I forget. I feel possessed. I know I don't have what it takes, but by darn it, I will take it and grab it and make it mine. I will make quality if I can. Maybe I never had it and will never get it, maybe I will fail horribly, maybe I will inflict all kinds of pain on slush readers, but at least I will go out blazing.
Anyways. Many thanks to you, Uncle Jim and the others. I will learn a lot here. You all inspire me.
I will keep reading and keep the faith....
I will write, and write, and write, and write.... okay, now I'll stop writing here and go write for real.