More on rewriting

Last week I faced the stark truth of just how much rewriting is in my future.  A couple of early readers of my Young Adult novel Green Tara have sent me praise--always welcome--but one pointed out a lack of clarity in the story world. Alas, I see now that the story's set-up needs attention.

 

I've written a new opening sequence that dramatizes the overarching problem of the futuristic world: the laws are oppressive and the people defacto slaves of the corporation.  Specifically, I've put the main character in a physical position to witness how a small group of people are "volunteered" to go on a suicidal exploration mission. I reread the sequence yesterday, and though the language is clunky and needs a polish, the images and basic arc of the story are great. But--

Darn, there's always a "but." On reflection I've got two of them.

How do I maintain the light, humorous tone when the consequences are so dire? And the other biggie--it's now clear that I've neglected the all-important establishment of theme.  If there's one rule that's inviolable, it's that theme belongs at the top. Lo, the entire story is most satisfying if it's marinated in theme. So, how do I invest both these essential ingredients into this new opening sequence?

The theme revolves around betrayal and loyalty. And though my young heroine might be disturbed by the cruelty of the laws, the sight of  people she doesn't really know getting the short end of the stick won't feel personal enough to call up the emotion of betrayal. Back to the question of tone, if she sees the cruelty but doesn't protest at least in private, will she be seen as heartless? That's not generally a good quality for a main character.

These are the questions I'm asking myself.

They say . . .

They--meaning practicing writers--say, "Writing is rewriting." And that's where I'm at today. If I didn't know others have gone this way countless times ahead of me, I'd be lost.

What's the process? 

• Identify places where there's lack of clarity or lack of engagement.  Check. Weakness is most pronounced in the set-up of the story world.
  
• Sketch a plan for a new opening sequence that more clearly establishes the problem at the global/story world level. Check. 
  
• Revisit to make sure the scenes are a satisfying dramatic hook and not just expository, situational scenarios. Next to do in my process today.
  
• Flesh out the descriptions. Note to self: In my futuristic setting I can't always rely on the less is more strategy. Here's a case where clarity trumps, so over-describe, then edit for a cleaner, leaner read.
  
• Crisp up the dialog. Note to self: Maintain the snappy personalities and beware the trap of explaining the situation via "natural" conversation, which won't sound natural at all if it explains everything. 
  
• Come back to the sequence tomorrow, edit and continue with a revision of the old opening scene so the two sequences flow.
  

Good thing I love the process.

Taking Notes

I received my first set of notes last night and I won't lie to you--it hurts. I wanted and expected polish notes, the kind that would take 5-10 hours to pound out. What I got was: when the main charactery rescues her mother the meeting's "tepid" (read: boring), and the second half of the story's generic (read: boring) and why don't I consider making the main character's father a traitor to give the story some real conflict (read: the story I've been writing's a real bore).

If only I could take this last story suggestion, rework the second half of the story with betrayal at its core and--KAPOW--fix the boredom quotient! Unfortunately, the suggested fix would completely undermine the spirit of the story I've been writing.

So, I ask the story goddess, what's this author to do? Trash two years of work and go hide under a rock? It's tempting. But I know from experience that notes like this--no matter how bluntly delivered--and the suggested fixes--no matter how ill-fitting--point to underlying holes. The interesting thing about the betrayal suggestion is that it actually speaks to the theme of the story, which revolves around the dynamic tension of betrayal vs. loyalty.

I realize and fully admit that there's no single bad guy in the story. EGADS! How could I have proceeded without this essential element? But, in the author's defense, I've stayed true to many futuristic settings-- the true antagonist is the most insidious kind because it masquerades as law and order and security. But the social order and laws that control the characters and their world are founded on greed and power. In short, the society may feel secure, but it's Evil.

The story goddess says look at the beginning and make the threat from the true antagonist more threatening and palpable. Because this is a novel for young people and for my own philosophical reasons, I've been shying away from violence as a way to demo the threat. Perhaps it's time to reconsider how I set up the story world.