A Writer’s Journal: The Revision Process

Pre-writing session:

Sometimes I begin my writing session with a pre-writing session.

Usually this is when I’m stuck.

But today, I’m writing because I woke up with some ideas about further fixing the story.

Couple issues that keep bothering me:

1. The deadbolt lock on Sam’s door is sometimes open, sometimes sticks, sometimes locked — WHY?
a. Wouldn’t she be freaked out about the troubles with the lock?
b. Wouldn’t she also be freaked out by the notes that she finds INSIDE her house?
2. She finds a hidden key in the cuckoo clock house.
a. What is this key for?
b. What is the significance?
i. How does this relate to Nathaniel and Gwendolyn
ii. Leave in? Take it out?
3. What if Sam meets Nathaniel early on?
a. When she’s first seeing the house?
i. Is he scouting for his sister?
ii. Is that creepy?
b. What if Sam meets BOTH Nathaniel and Gwendolyn?
i. When she’s viewing the house?
ii. When she first moves in?
iii. Even if just briefly?
4. How does Nathaniel change his sister?
a. When does it happen?
b. He’s been sneaking into the house. That’s why the door lock is sometimes open, sometimes closed.
i. Foreshadowing of something odd.
ii. Notes are also an attempt at connecting, but would/should Sam be so calm when she finds them?

Okay. Back to work. BUT now these thoughts are concrete. Recorded. Now I can let my brain do other work.

Ninety minutes later…

It’s good to have a routine. For me, it’s cramming in about an hour and a half each morning to work on my fiction writing.

I have an album that I’ve been listening to for a very long time. It’s my trigger. It’s my cue. It’s the audio trick that trips my brain into writing mode.

John Tesh ‘Live at Red Rocks.’ It’s about 80 minutes long. And I listen to it from the start- the way the album was first produced. There is an extended version, too, but the original classic is what works for me. Probably because 90 minutes is as much time as I can steal away from my other important tasks and probably because it’s the extent of what I can do. Like running — you can build up your muscle just so far. Then, you’re spent. An hour and a half is my physical, mental, and psychic limit for creative writing.

I write fast, so when I’m in ‘producing text’ mode, I can usually write about 1,500 words in 90 minutes. It’s more difficult to measure amount produced when revising or editing, so I count my time instead.

It’s interesting to note here: Since I decided to share these journal entries in a public platform, I keep the audience in mind. This is the anonymous audience of the public- much like the bookstore browser who might stumble upon my book.

If you’re reading this, I probably don’t know you.

I hope that in reading the inner thoughts of a novelist that you can learn a trick or two — well, they’re not tricks. Rather, they are tips and strategies that reveal MY process.

Really, I’m opening the door to my studio so you can see the artist at work.

Come inside. Look around. Feel free to ask me questions.

I finished the current revision. What is it? Number 6?

And as you read above, there are still things to be fixed. And that’s what I’ll tackle tomorrow.

Right now, it’s time to get on with my day.

For me, that means 8 rounds of boxing. Then, check my students in the online course that I’m teaching. Then lunch.

I’m looking forward to dinner tonight. I’m making pizza.

What are you having for dinner?

See you tomorrow.