Time, the Magic Elixir—Set Your Novel Aside for a Spell

Partial Outline for Tempest at Dawn

I believe novels are like wine, they need to age in a metaphorical cask for just the right amount of time. The chart on this page was a timeline I developed for Tempest at Dawn, my novelization of the Constitutional Convention. This chart reflected what happened during May, 1787, the first month of the Constitutional Convention. (Each number has extensive hidden notes.) I also develop separate charts for each of the following three months, plus similar charts for before and after the convention. My table for the cast of the story retained an unbelievable amount of data on all fifty-five delegates plus a dozen or so outsiders. I had spent three years studying the convention and the framers. It was a daunting task and I wanted to squeeze everything into my novel. To quote Pretty Woman, “Big mistake. Big. Huge.”

The real story of our nation's founding.

My original draft was over 240,000 words. My agent harangued me to cut, cut, cut. By the time he agreed to shop the book, it was about 175,000 words. Despite his enthusiasm, it didn’t sell, and I threw the manuscript into a drawer (actually a computer file folder) for several years. After I had successfully self-published a western series and The Shut Mouth Society, I decided to take another look at Tempest. I felt I had captured the story, but diffused the drama with too much detail. Now I went after the manuscript with hedge clippers instead of scissors. After that, professional editing and proofreading got the final published manuscript down to 140,000 words. Still a big book, but now it moved with an energized pace.

Time was the medicine that cured the ills of Tempestat Dawn. I got far enough away to lighten my emotional attachment to the project. Writing a book is consuming, but intensity can also cloud judgment. 

After your final draft is done, set it aside for a bit and let your book mellow. Does it need to be years? Absolutely not. When I finish a novel, I go on a trip. Get some real distance between me and the book. I prefer going surfing or taking a road trip with friends. Something that feels like a reward. It can be as short as a week, and is seldom more than a month. For me, travel shortens the time I need to be truly objective about the final draft.  Every writer is different, so this may not be the best way for you to clear your head. I only know that I do solid revisions after getting mentally and physically away from the book for a spell.

One last thing: it’s not easy to abandon your book. There’s excitement on completion and an anxiousness to get it out there because it’s your best work to date. Probably true, but it can always be better. Give it a little time and look at it again with fresh eyes. (I also have a couple of trusted people read and comment on the book while I’m gallivanting around.) Try it once and see if it works for you. Like I said, every writer is different.

Fear and the Bleeding Manuscript

Once upon a time, I feared red ink … now I look forward to it. The red ink means another set of professional eyes are helping me write a better book. I tell stories; editors keep the reader’s head in the story. Errors, typos, and awkward sentences break the magic of storytelling, and since I spend about a year on each of my novels, I want uninterrupted magic.

There are bad editors, of course. I had one once. She was assigned to me by a major New York publisher and saw her job as bending my book in another direction. Bad editors can exasperate a writer and even destroy the commercial success of a book. Luckily, I now have a good editor, and she has worked with me on all six of the Steve Dancy Tales. It’s been a good partnership. She knows the characters, the storyline, and my foibles.

Honest westerns filled with dishonest characters.

Another way to jerk the reader out of the story is to use a modern word or phrase in a historical novel. In my last manuscript, my editor caught the following words that would be inappropriate for 1880.

nonstop, 1902

freewheeling, 1931

racketeers, 1924

dim-witted, 1934

sidestepped, 1900

lowlifes, 1911

dock-workers, 1913

shoot-out, 1948

best seller, 1889

S.O.B., 1918

run-of-the-mill, 1930

blabbermouth, 1936

top-notch,1900

gangland, 1912

scam, 1963

headlock, 1905

paddy wagon, 1930

Most readers wouldn't catch these, but I’m glad they've been scrubbed from the manuscript.

I'll go carefully through each edit and editorial comment. Then I'll print the book and read it once again for continuity, clarity, and crispness.

See my earlier post on continuity, clarity, and crispness

When I finish with this round, it will be off to the publisher for interior design and proofreading. I wish that would be the end, but in this modern world, I’ll also need the book professionally formatted for different brands of eReaders.

Continuity, Clarity, and Crispness

I’m making pre-editing revisions to my latest book. I want to share my goals for a final pass-through for any of my books. After I have the story the way I want it and falsely believe that I've caught every error, I do another revision for continuity, clarity, and crispness.

Continuity
In film, a script supervisor makes sure the placement of furniture is consistent from scene to scene. Novels need similar scrutiny. During this revision, I keep an eye out for characters getting up from a chair more than once or magically changing rooms, clothing, or weapons. I also review each character’s dialogue to make sure what they say is consistent with their character. Last, I review the timeline to make sure I haven’t excessively compressed or expanded time.

Clarity
Oftentimes an author knows exactly what he intended, but a reader goes, “huh?” Making things crystal clear alternately means adding a bit of explanation or deleting extraneous description that might lead the reader down a false path. Clarity also means making sure the reader knows who is talking. This can be especially confusing when there are more than two people in a conversation.

Crispness

Good narratives move crisply. Sometimes this means deleting a sentence that interferes with a smooth flow, but it usually means deleting superfluous words. I think of this process as removing speed bumps and filling in potholes. As Mark Twain said, "Substitute 'Damn' every time you're inclined to write 'very;' your editor will delete it and the writing will be just as it should be." Ideally, every word, sentence and paragraph should move the story forward.

I said ideally because I always fail. Despite my best efforts, the manuscript comes back from the editor with marks on every page. Sometimes they fix errors, but most of the time they suggest ways to improve continuity, clarity, and crispness. Thank heaven for editors. 

It all depends on how you look at it—Point of View

I’m reading a thriller from a big name author. It’s a bestseller published under a Simon & Schuster imprint. Yeah, I found a few typos and stray words, but they didn’t bother me. I miss some mistakes myself, so I’m pretty charitable. What I found discombobulating were the sudden shifts in point of view. With no warning, the reader was thrown from inside one character’s head into the thoughts and feelings of another character. These were stray single paragraphs wedged into an otherwise consistent point of view. It might just be me, but when this happens, it stops me cold.

There are three proper ways to change point of view: a section break, a chapter break, or use an omnipotent point of view. (I’m not going to address tense or first, second, and third person which should be artfully reliable throughout a book.) 

Omnipotent is when the reader regularly gets inside the thoughts and feelings of different characters. An omnipotent point of view (POV) is difficult to carry off, but with a deft hand it can be done so the reader never notices. In fact, the reader should never become overly conscious of the point of view. It’s distracting.

That’s why I prefer a fourth technique. Never change POV. My four Steve Dancy Westerns and The Shut Mouth Society use a single POV throughout the entire story. This was difficult for The Shut Mouth Society because the thriller has two protagonists. I tried switching POV between the hero and heroine, but decided that it added to the mystery if the reader didn’t know what one of the major characters was thinking.

I used a different approach with Tempest at Dawn. Since this was a novelization of the Constitutional Convention, I used POV to heighten the conflict between the opposing forces at the convention. Every other chapter alternated POV between James Madison and Roger Sherman. This allowed the reader to feel the emotions on both sides of the issues.  (I first ran across this technique thirty years ago in Kane and Abel by Jeffrey Archer.) 




It was difficult to keep the POV consistent when Madison and Sherman were together. Revisions and editing finally scrubbed out the irregularities. In the final chapter of the book, I made an exception to a single POV per chapter. Since both men were together for the entire concluding chapter, I switched to a distant omnipotent POV. In other words, I never entered the thoughts or feeling of either man, but described scenes as if a narrator was telling a story about what he observed. This is similar to a movie, where the viewer never gets to read the thoughts of a character.

People deride the errors in indie-published books, but turn a blind eye to the increasing number of mistakes that prestigious publishers allow to get into print. Sixteen years ago, when I published The Digital Organization, Wiley had the manuscript line-edited by three different editors. They told me a single editor always missed something. I suspect that economics has forced the major publishers to cut this to a single line-editor. It’s a business mistake because this is a level of quality indie-publishers can compete against.

Leonard's ten rules for writing

Elmore Leonard

In 2009, The Western Writers of America presented Elmore Leonard with their prestigious Owen Wister Award for lifetime achievement. Leonard wrote 3:10 to Yuma, Hombre, Last Stand at Saber River, and many other Westerns. He also wrote novels outside the Western genre, including Get Shorty, Jackie Brown, and Out of Sight.

Leonard published his 10 Rules of Writing, which was actually a padded version of his New York Times article. The book may be panned for its brevity, but the advice is sound.

Leonard's ten rules for writing

1. Never open a book with weather.

2. Avoid prologues.

3. Never use a verb other than "said" to carry dialogue.

4. Never use an adverb to modify the verb "said."

5. Keep your exclamation points under control.

6. Never use the words "suddenly" or "all hell broke out."

7. Use regional dialects, patois, sparingly.

8. Avoid detailed descriptions of characters.

9. Don't go into great detail describing places and things.

10. Try to leave out the part that readers tend to skip.




The book is pricey, but you can get the gist of Leonard's advice at the New York Times archive.

Polish your manuscript

It is the superfluous things for which men sweat.

Seneca (c. 5 BC-AD c. 65), Roman writer

A friend of mine unintentionally changed my attitude toward revisions. He restores antique cars and starts each project with barely more than a chassis and some rusted sheet metal. With utmost care, he painstakingly replaces every single part until his recreation is better than the shiny piece of the American dream that was driven off the showroom. When he finishes, we go on a ride and I can tell he enjoys the envious looks and honks from other car enthusiasts.

After these inaugural rides, I always assumed the cars were finished, but every time I visited, he would be in the garage replacing this piece or that piece. If he wasn't installing a newly acquired part, he would be polishing nooks and crannies that no one in a standing position would ever see. Sometimes I'd come over to find that he had painted the car a different color or replaced perfectly good upholstery.

One day I asked him if he ever tired of constantly changing an already beautiful car.

"Hell no," he said. "Building the car is work. This is the fun part."

"The fun part?"

"Whenever I start a new project car, I look forward to the day when the basic restoration is done so I can perfect it . My joy is in making it flawless. I fix the little details so people love to spend time with my creation."

"But you keep working on it. How do you know when it's perfect?"

"One day I'll walk all around it, open the doors, lift the hood, examine the truck and there won't be any more changes I want to make." He shrugged. "Then I sell it and start all over again."

Now I look forward to completing a manuscript so I can tighten and polish it until there are no more changes I want to make. Then I sell it and start all over again.

New Cover for The Shut Mouth Society

For a long time, I've wanted to change the cover of The Shut Mouth Society. Although the story has strong historical elements, it's a contemporary thriller. The old cover looked like a historical novel, or even a non-fiction book on Lincoln. With the completion of Murder at Thumb Butte, I was able to dedicate some time to work with a designer on a new cover.

Jane's Fame, How Jane Austen Conquered the World

I like to read author biographies and this is a fascinating book about a fascinating author. The first quarter is biographical, and then Claire Harman explains how Jane Austen's fame grew through the decades and centuries.

Is fame important for an author? Mass market writers aim for a huge audience, but literary authors are frequently content with select readers that can appreciate their art. Austen was undoubtedly a literary genius, but as Raymond Chandler wrote, “It might reasonably be said that all art at some time and in some manner becomes mass entertainment, and that if it does not it dies and is forgotten.”

Jane knew the secret of great writing—revision. Perhaps she had no choice. Fifteen years or so elapsed between the writing of her first novel and publication. In the meantime, she honed Pride and Prejudice and Sense and Sensibilities to perfection.

During an earlier time in my life, I spent a lot of time in Concord, Massachusetts. The biographical portion of Jane's Fame reminded me of Louisa May Alcott. They were each encouraged to write by their families, grew up surrounded by literary people and artists, and both read their stories aloud to family and friends.

Speaking of similarities, another one struck me while writing this post: Austen, Chandler, and Twain wrote contemporary fiction, but we now read their books as period fiction. Viewing their work as historical novels makes them timeless.

The secret to great dialogue

Dialogue by Doc Ross, Christchurch, New Zealand

Dialogue in fiction is not conversation. At least not the kind of conversation we have every day. Fictional dialogue always has a purpose. It must move the plot and be character revealing.

Many writers have difficulty with dialogue. Is there a secret? Yes: know your characters. You should know your characters as well as your best friend. Some writers create elaborate back stories, even if they never intend to use them. Others prefer to outline personality traits. I like to take long walks and have conversations with my characters. To get to know your characters, use whatever method feels right for you. Once you understand them, you'll soon discover that your characters speak with a consistent outlook and come across as real people. When you know your characters, all you do is put them into the right situation, give them something to accomplish, and then transcribe their conversation.

The following example is from my book, Leadville. The plot required me to move my characters to another location. This may not be a great literary example, but it illustrates how to make a mundane transition more interesting by letting the characters speak naturally.

Sharp and I stood outside the livery corral kicking our spurs into the dirt.

“Let’s get a ham steak,” Sharp said.

“Bit early for a noon meal.”

“Hell, McAllen went to see his ex-wife. No tellin’ how long he’ll be, and we might not see a hog for months.”

“You said something similar this morning when we ordered that glutinous breakfast.”

“True this morning, true now. If ya hadn’t hired them boys, you’d be hungry too.”

“What if McAllen shows up?”

Sharp leaned around the corner of the barn and yelled at the liveryman. “If a gruff gent comes lookin’ for us, tell ’im we’re at the café.” Sharp turned and gave me a pleased look.

“What if he comes before we finish our meal? You know McAllen.”

“Then we git up and head for the hills.”

“Could be a waste of money.”

“Might be right.” Sharp pushed himself away from the barn wall. “So you pay.”

And off he went.

Honest Westerns ... filled with dishonest characters