Avoiding the Ending

Technically, my summer writer-in-residence experiment will end tomorrow. I return to work the following day. I have relished the opportunity to think about writing every day and to actually produce something most days. When work begins--and it will begin in high gear--I am too frantic at the beginning of the day and too drained at the end to be creative. It is a sad reality. Perhaps the coming year will be different. Perhaps I will be successful in guarding time for myself and in accomplishing things beyond the work agenda. Of course, those possibilities go along with my standard musing: perhaps I will have a clean work area.

There is another ending I am struggling with: the ending of my latest novel manuscript. I have reached the word limit for the publisher who has first right of refusal, but I wrote +5,000 more words in the last week and there is at least that much more required to tie things up. While I realize I have a brutal round of revising ahead of me before I will consider submitting the work, I wish one area of focus weren't about deleting words and scenes. Changing and adding are fine. Deleting is harsh. Words aren't like hair that will grow back--we hope--after a cut. When they're gone, they're gone. Adios. Adieu. See ya!

When I submitted Fouling Out, I had to delete 25,000 words...before the stage in which more revisions came while working with an editor. Faced with thousands of words to cut, numbers become a greater focus than the words. That is why it is so painful. It is not about creation; rather, destruction. Sure, there are the easy cuts to excise wordy sentences and unnecessary qualifiers like very and apparently. (I thank writing instructor Nancie Atwell for her list of "The Very Bad Words".) That will address hundreds, not thousands of words.

Of course, I am getting ahead of myself. The ending, while near, is not yet upon me. I have two days of summer writing to figure out how to conclude matters with Marshall Allen McGonigle and Mr. Thomas Spenser.

On to it!

Hitting the Road

The nice part of being a virtual writer-in-residence is that I don't have to stay in one place. (I also am pleased not to be a lab rat whom passersby stare at through one-way mirrors. "Ooh, look! He's picking his nose! So that's where he gets his ideas from.") Tomorrow I will be taking my writing on the ferry and to the Vancouver airport before flying to the family cottage in Ontario. I expect to be very productive. A bold statement, indeed.

Writing on the ferry has always been a good thing. It's a 40-minute ride and I park myself at a study carrel, power on the laptop and get a chunk of writing or revising done. In paring down my novel Fouling Out, much of the revisions came on the ferry during daily work commutes. All that occurred down in the caged in pet area on the vehicle deck with one shivering dog on my lap and the other leaning on my leg. By comparison, the study carrel on the passenger deck is a luxury.

I am a people watcher at airports. Where is that group going? Is she off to meet her husband? Why is he wearing shorts and flip flops? I don't get a lot of writing done at the airport; instead, I soak in the atmosphere and a few quotes or a minor character may come to mind. These are details that I consider golden. On the plane, I get more disciplined and write another scene, taking an occasional break to peruse some of the reading material I've packed in my weighted backpack. (Why do I set aside a thousand pages for in-flight reading? Can I not make a choice that morning at home? Do I suddenly think I will become Speed Reader?)

It's the time at the cottage that will be uncertain. Days can drift by. Often when I return and people ask what I did, the honest answer is "nothing." I think that's what cottages are for. I am not a tinkerer like my grandfather and I certainly am not a fisherman like my brother. As I stare at waves and idly allow sand to sift through my hands for hours on end, maybe I will fit in a time to write. You're not watching through that funky mirror, but I will still try to imagine eyes watching.

Time to Get Serious

This is my first full week of opportunity for uninterrupted writing. It is time to get serious. I have been hopping about from essay idea to blog entry to random writing tidbit. It has been a fun couple of weeks. However, while my desk will never be organized, it is time to put aside some of the clutter in my brain.

I will spend the week focused on a novel manuscript that is 2/3 or 3/4 complete. Since I have not visited it since Spring Break, I have printed out the version with the latest revisions and I will start back on page one. (I would love to save a tree and read from the laptop screen, but nothing takes the place of a line-by-line revision with a paper and pen. It's like scrubbing the floor with a bucket and sponge rather than using a mop for the quick clean. Or so I'm told. I should not use cleaning as basis for a metaphor. Write what you know, write what you know.)

With big breaks in my writing, it is important for me to fully review the plot, the characters and the tone before adding a new scene. I feel this gets me motivated, helps the manuscript flow better and reduces the painful, awkward What was I thinking? moments in the next round of revisions.

I hope to have some extra time to pick away at a picture book manuscript this week as well, but I shall be disciplined. No dessert until I've made good progress on the main course.