My Novel's Journey: Neeta Lyffe 2 Gets new Life

This is my sister, Gina, modeling as Neeta.  How cool is that?

I had a rough time in the past week trying to get back into writing Neeta Lyffe II:  I Left My Brains in San Francisco.  The information I got from my contact at the oil refinery helped while confusing me at the same time.  I just didn't know how to get it all coordinated.  I also found that I needed to have more scenes earlier to set things up.  Finally, I was a little disgusted with the last couple of scenes I'd written at the end.  They were good scenes, but I didn't like Neeta taking charge of coordination when she really needed to be chopping zombie heads.

Here's the thing about us authors--sometimes, we really really hate discarding something we worked hard on.  But when we finally gut ourselves up to it, we can move on to write something even better.

The oil refinery analogy worked only up to a point, but they're making fuel out of manure in Neeta 2, so some stuff didn't work.  Rather than trying to shoehorn my refinery to an existing model, I needed to let go of it.  Then, of course, the perfect model presented itself--Digestion!  it will no longer be the more accurate refinery processes I'd been aiming at and had done hours of research on, but it's going to be a lot more fun--and this is humor, after all.

As I started putting in the scenes, which is really a medly of actions with several characters rather than a straight-line progression with Neeta, I realized that the scene I was sticking on wasn't going to work.  The old scene had an inexperienced zombie exterminator manager with a doctorate thesis trying to force his ideas for large scale zombie infestation on a situation that didn't fit.  Neeta was having to put him down and take over in order to save lives.  It was a good scene and I wanted her to have a situation where she asserted herself, but it made her coordinator instead of exterminator.  And why do we read about Neeta?  Because she kicks zombie butt.  I finally axed the scenes--about 2000 words--but once I did, other more natural situations showed up for her to regain her confidence.  As a bonus, Doctor Storm Matterston still got to be an admin weenie, only a slightly more successful one--and he even got to flirt with someone.  He's a happier character, now.

I'm building steam, and think I can finish this beast by the end of the year, which is my goal.  However, if I'd insisted on clinging to past work, research and ideas, I think I would have spent the week banging my head against the wall. 

So, if something you're doing isn't working, instead of trying to power through it, back up and try it from a new angle, even if it means tossing out a great idea, disregarding research or killing off a character.  You may find that something even better rises from the ruins.

Chatterday: Can you cut your manuscript?

Thursday, I talked about cutting manuscripts and gave some tips. Today, I want to know..

How do you cut your manuscript? Can you do it? Is it hard? Share with us a story about your best editing victory or worse editing nightmare.

Write Tight--tips for cutting your prose.

I read a story about Spider Robinson, one of the greats in science fiction, and how he learned to write tight. He used to submit stories to Astounding Magazine and editor John Campbell--a pioneer of the genre--would write him back saying, essentially, "Great story. Cut it by half. "(or a third, I don't remember which.) Spider would then rant and snarl, then get to work, cut the story, and find himself surprised that not only could he do it, but that the story turned out great.

This past week, I felt very close to Spider. I did another cutting marathon; this time, taking my novella "Greater Treasures" from 10,000 words to 13,300. It taxed my philosophy that just about any story can be cut by a third, and it took six hours to get to size, but I did it and I like the result.

Cutting can be very hard for writers--every word is important, right? In truth, you can chop and still preserve the story. Here're some hints:

1. Kill the passive voice. Usually, you can find a stronger verb for "was" or "has."
2. Kill progressive voice. This is was/is and a ver ending in -ing. Vern talks in progressive voice a lot, but I've found that when cutting, I can use a simple past tense instead. "I watched" instead of "I was watching." This is not always the case, though, so be careful.
3. Kill the -ly words by using a stronger verb. "I moved quietly" becomes "I stalked."
4. Kill off or combine characters. If you have a lot of side characters, you can make some do double-duty or remove them totally. Do you really need the taxi driver AND the barman to give your protagonist advice, or can one do it--or maybe a different character, like an informant? In another story I cut this week, I had two cops, but one was more decoration. He got removed.
5. Cut asides and side plots. Does your character really need that trip down memory lane? Does the conversation further the plot or is it just interesting? Anything that does not move the plot forward can be cut.
6. Don’t be so clever. This was the hard one for me. Vern has a lot of sarcastic comments to make, but I had to sacrifice some in order to make the word count. Oddly, even though they hurt while cutting, I didn't notice their absence when reading the final version aloud. Your readers will not know the great material that ended up on the cutting room floor, but if you cut intelligently, you will keep the spirit and have enough wit still in the cleaner version to make an impact.

Cutting, once you get into the swing of it, is actually a fun challenge. Seldom now do editors come back like Mr. Campbell asking for cuts, but you might try this exercise on some of your own work. You might get it down to a size that makes it more marketable, or come up with a version that will get you into a different market--like flash. Either way, it's a good way to learn what's really essential and to help you learn to "write tight."

Here's a little before-and-after. Do you miss the 30 words I axed?
Before:

Grace hid the TV by closing the door to the closet in which it stood, then peered out the miniblinds. "She's good with the dogs--friendly, but not gushing over them. Nice outfit--business, but not too out of place. Sensible shoes. Her hair's redder than mine."

The window was partly open, so I used my sniffer. "Out of a bottle. She's got money, too. More than you should carry around in this part of town."

"Good. The mortgage is due and I need some supplies for the workshop. And I've flooded the ‘local’ arcane market with dragon urine."

I shrugged. Every part of a dragon--from fangs to fewmets--has some kind of magical value and is highly prized in the magical market on Faerie. Of course, St. George had taken most of that away from me with his spell, but there was one thing he couldn't mess with, and that was a natural reaction of dragon digestion. I didn't mind filling a few bottles to sell. Too much of our work depended on Grace's magic.

"Here she comes," Grace said and took her place at her desk. She used a cantrip to open the door just before our stranger could.

"Welcome to Dragon Eye Private Investigation Agency," I said over her discomfiture. "I'm Vern and this is Sister Grace. How can we help you?"

After:
Grace sighed with relief as she turned off the TV. The local Geraldo-wannabe had invited a couple of Mundane Neo-Nazis and some Faerie toughs to discuss their differences. One skinhead had just announced that once they had eradicated the "fairy contagion," they'd resume their crusade to purify the "proper" human race. I'd been betting the audience would storm the stage and was looking forward to the ensuing ruckus.

"Awww…"

"The mortgage is due and I need supplies for the workshop," Grace scolded. "And I've flooded the ‘local’ arcane market with dragon urine."

"Okay." Every part of a dragon--from fangs to fewmets--has magical value. Of course, St. George had taken most of that away from me with his spell, but there was one thing he couldn't mess with, and that was a natural reaction of dragon digestion. I didn't mind filling a few bottles to sell. Too much of our work depended on Grace's magic. But you could only sell so much, so I made nice as our customer entered.

"Welcome to Dragon Eye Private Investigation Agency. I'm Vern and this is Sister Grace. How can we help you?"

"My name is Eva, Eva Heidler, and…" She sniffled.

My Novel's Journey: Mind Over Matter edits

It is done!

I finished the major revisions of Mind Over Matter Thursday afternoon. I knocked it down from 132,000 words to 98,500, primarily by killing a subplot and some deep background, plus removing a few redundancies. I've got it with some friends for a general critique of plot progression and character, to make sure I didn't cut too much and leave important points unexplained. In the meantime, I plan to let it sit until Monday, when I'll read it out loud to check the flow, then print it and read it backwards to make sure the sentences are free of errors and written as well as possible.

This is the most extensive revision of a manuscript I've ever done. I found it interesting that I could cut so much that seemed so very important when I was writing it, and come up with a better story. I remember reading that Spider Robinson had a similar experience. He would send a story to (I think it was) Amazing, and Campbell, the editor, would send it back saying, "Great story! Cut it by a third." He said he'd sweat over each word, believe the idea impossible, do it anyway, and come up with a better story as a result.

I think I've greatly improved Mind Over Matter. I can't wait to get a pub date on it!