It’s been school holidays for the past couple of weeks, and up until the last couple of days, the weather has been cold, wet and gloomy—and perfect for writing!
I took the opportunity to immerse myself in an unscheduled home writing retreat, during which I took to my novel with the shears. I discarded more scenes, along with loads of sentences and paragraphs, which was painful because I loved some of those sentences and scenes. I’d given birth to them and I felt very proud of them, however, there’s no room for pride when revising a novel. It’s not about the author—it’s about the story.
I relaxed as soon as I finished this revision. I thought this would be it—Final Draft 2.0 was the definitive final draft. However, my red pen has been busy on the read through, and I’ve no doubt Final Draft 3.0 is on its way:
I really must do something about my ellipsis fetish—there were 14 of them on this page alone.
A Realisation or Two
I’ve come to realise a number of things over the past couple of years. A lot of them relate to writing, but many are about myself. I’m realising for the first time how much I love being creative—how much I need to be creative.
It feels strange to realise such things when you’re nearly five decades old, especially when they’ve been quite obvious for at least four of those decades. I wonder why I didn’t realise it sooner, but then I know why—I had other priorities; I didn’t think I would be good at it; life was too busy to think about what I might like to do …
I’ve also realised how much I crave solitude. If I don’t get it, I feel anxious and become a very grumpy person. From time to time, I need time alone, just me and my mind. I don’t mean just five minutes or even one hour—although that helps. I mean a significant period, a couple of weeks, without responsibilities, when I don’t have to think of anyone else. When I can just think about my writing.
I hadn’t planned to spend these school holidays in the attic, but over the last couple of weeks of term, I was beginning to feel anxious and tetchy. I still have three children at school, and they all have busy lives—there’s always something to take up my mind and my time.
It had been a year since I was at Varuna, and that was the last opportunity I’d had to immerse myself totally in my writing. I kept hoping things would settle and I’d get a sustained period in the attic alone, but it wasn’t happening. In the end, I asked my husband to give it to me. So, while he was at home over Easter, he cooked and cleaned and minded the kids, while I cloistered myself away and got my writing fix. Believe me, I know how lucky I am to have a husband who understands …
My children are also at ages where I can leave them downstairs and just make an occasional bodily appearance (leaving my mind in the attic), but I still felt selfish leaving them to their own devices during their school holidays. They’ve been wonderful and haven’t complained about my invisibility, and now I’ve had my fix, I can return to them and the land of other people!
What next?
My plan is to get this novel to the point where I feel good about sending it out, and after that: Novel #2.
I’m excited to start a new project—I’m already planning and jotting notes. I think the next novel will be smaller in scope and themes—actually, smaller in every way. I took on a bit more than I could chew with this first one, not that I knew it at the time.
In many ways, I had to write this first novel. I don’t believe I could have written about anything else until I got this out of my system. I didn’t plan this story, and I certainly didn’t plan its themes, but it’s turned out to be about the things that are most important to me: children, music, and trees. The only thing that is dear to me that I forgot was the ocean—maybe novel #2 will include that!
I don’t know if my first novel will ever be published, but regardless of that, I want to make it the best it can be, for a couple of reasons. Firstly, I can always pick it up again in a few years’ time, when I have fresh eyes and more experience. And secondly, I want to learn as much as I can from it, so I can take all that I’ve learned and use it when writing my next novel.
I’ve prepared a blog post on things I’ve learned from writing a first novel, but I can’t post it yet as I keep adding to the list! I’ll probably have to publish it as ‘The Incomplete List of Things I’ve Learned About Writing a Novel’.
Onwards
So, onwards I go, in this land of being a mother, having responsibilities and commitments, trying to participate in society and interact with other people, and trying to write a novel as well.
Good luck to all of us trying to write or create in this hectic world. May we all have understanding partners who let us carve out time in our attics for our writing fixes.
Oh well said – and you know something I love in this post was this bit: “So I asked my husband to give it to me.”
I keep waiting for mine to offer… (bless him) – that he should understand that all I want to do is write and so not ask me if I feel like going for a drive today, or if I want to do something with the kids today, or if I’d like to do anything at all today… I’d like it if he just knew that I’m happy writing and don’t feel the need to rush off to *do* something (anything) else.
But one of these days I will just have to “ask him for it” I think, and stop feeling guilty about doing what I enjoy so much, and what I too, need to do!
Bloody well said Louise. I hope you are coming out of your attic long enough to get to #DateNight!!
Lily, between you and me, I wrote ‘ask’ but that doesn’t do justice to the conversation I had with my husband about it! I was a bit grumpy—i.e., angry and tearful—because he hadn’t realised I might want time to myself to write. Beautiful man that he is, and he really is, unless I ask for something, he doesn’t know what I want. But, like you, I felt selfish and guilty about asking, because I knew it put him out and he’d have to give up his days off, so I wanted him to offer instead. In the end, he said, ‘Just ask’, so I did, and lo and behold, I received.
I think women have been brought up to feel selfish if we have needs, and so we try to ignore them (one of the reasons I didn’t start writing until I was older), but we deserve—we need—to have our needs met. They’re good, nourishing needs, these creative yearnings that we have, and they fulfill us and make us happy, and when we’re happy, we’re better mothers and wives, so it benefits everyone.
And #DateNight is definitely in my calendar, don’t worry. I’m so excited about finally being able to meet you!
Louise, such a brave honest post. Everything you wrote about your longing to create and your need for solitude and time to write resonates with me tonight. I feel less alone thanks to your sharing. Thank you.
Thanks, Maureen. I wish I was there in person to make you feel even less alone. x
Thanks, Louise,
🙂
I totally get where you’re coming from! I also need solitude, and the more of it I have, the more of it I want! It works because I know there’s a 100% supportive husband behind me, my current patron and financial sponsor, bless him. I am at day 365 of my year off today – ready to go back? Nope, not at all… which is why I havent doen anything about it I have learned that I need a lot of space – de-tuning from anyone around is almost impossible for me, and I’m having to learn it, bit by bit!
how egocentric, that’s all about me :/ – your words resonated, but what I also want to say is, good on you for taking the space when it would have been easy not to, to be swept up in everybody else’s busy-ness and easy to give in to the guilt etc and not ‘ask’. It’s hard! But by the time we get to nearly five decades, if we don’t ask, then the next five aren’t going to be good, and our inner selves just shrivel up. Not an attractive option and not going to happen to you, too much liveliness in you!
And your comment wasn’t egocentric at all! And you’re right about learning to ‘ask’ for something we want or need, yet still we hesitate before we do …
I so relate to the need for more solitude and space! I need it to regenerate and if I don’t get it, I feel myself getting more and more wound up. If I could live how I wanted, I’d be quite hermetic—in my attic all day, show my face at dinner time to eat and talk about writerly stuff, and return to my attic again. But that would be incredibly irresponsible and selfish, not to mention narrow and boring, and would probably send me quite batty!
It’s hard to know, isn’t it – I’m about to get my first totally solo week in about 35 years. If you notice any funny (weird) FB posts, that’ll be why! 🙂
Totally solo for a week! At least there’s social media so we can keep an eye on you! Hope you enjoy it and don’t feel too strange. 🙂
Hello Louise, I’m so excited for you, you are nearly there, and already thinking about your next novel. what an amazing journey you have created following your dreams and more importantly your heart x
Thanks, Rae! I’m enjoying the ride—goodness knows where it will lead!
Hi Louise,
One thing I wanted to say is that I’d be careful of hacking that novel too much. It was shortlisted for a reason and unless someone offered editorial feedback saying it wasn’t good enough as is, I’d be more inclined to chalk up the loss as someone else’s work being a better fit for that particular comp. I think sometime we can get sick of rejection to the point that we start attacking a perfectly good piece of work and revise all the life right out of it IYKWIM? I know I’ve done that with poems – made them better technically but at the expense of something more essential.
On another note, I wrote most of my manuscript by grabbing my keys and walking out the door on Sunday mornings, leaving my husband with the house and kids until I was ready to come home again. And we were all much happier for it! I think it’s crucial to lead by example when it comes to showing children how to make time for themselves, for creativity and personal passions etc… And that’s one of the perks of having a partner – I know plenty of single parent writers who don’t have that option, so why not make the most of it? Congrats on making your retreat! 🙂
Thanks for the vote of confidence! Some of the edits have been in response to feedback, but I’ve also changed things that I felt were wrong with it. I’d had a bit of space from it, and it’s amazing what you pick up when you re-read with fresher eyes. I really feel the edits have made it better—it’s tighter and with a much better sense of place. I like it better anyway!
You’re right about being a good role model and about needing to escape the house on some days to get work done. You have to do what you can to create space and time to yourself.
Sounds like it was the best kind of editing then – you know, where you sort of get laser vision rather than sitting there in a blind panic trying to see what everyone else is seeing. Sometimes all it takes is that bit of time away. 🙂
Yes, time away from the project can really help gain perspective—you see the forest and not just the trees. I had a few moments of clarity where I saw what was needed. There is still one section that I’m not happy with, but I don’t know how to fix. I’ll have to let that sit a little while longer.
And yes, it felt like a good edit—one where I wasn’t just tweaking, but where I made some real improvements!
Dear Louise, I’m 100% with WordMothers. “be careful of hacking that novel too much. It was shortlisted for a reason. I think sometime we can get sick of rejection to the point that we start attaching a perfectly good piece of work and revise all the life out of it.” That aside, good on you for grabbing some precious time in which to write. Believe me, I know the feeling and like most other writers craved time alone , to think and write. And wishing you nothing but the best with writing your second novel. x
Thanks, Marlish, and for the vote of confidence. I do feel the edits have improved it, despite having to do away with some of my precious darlings! And I’m of the mind that too much time alone can never be enough!
I love your attitude! You’re so brave and strong and fearless. When I grow up, can I be you?
Em, you are amazing and perfect just the way you are! (And I’ll tell you a secret: I’m not always brave and fearless …)
Lovely post, Louise, though I’m a very different sort of person so don’t relate to the specifics of your need. I’m more extrovert, and I’m not particularly creative.
BUT I do relate to your point that “I think women have been brought up to feel selfish if we have needs, and so we try to ignore them”. I do make time for myself – to do the things I need, usually with people (!) – but I’m always feeling guilty. I should be doing this around the house, I should be doing this for my parents, I should not want my women’s weekend … even though no-one is really telling me what I’m doing is unacceptable, even though they seem happy with the level of support and things I do do. Why is this? And now I fear that while I thought my ACTIONS in carving out time for the things I want to do was showing my kids I have that right, my FEELINGS might actually be what they learnt. Wah! Really, wah!
I so relate—we carry these guilt complexes around with us and they eat into our enjoyment of the moment. I’m like you, intellectually I know it’s acceptable—actually more than acceptable, it’s necessary and nourishing—yet emotionally, I feel guilty, even though, as you mention, no one is complaining. I know why I feel guilty, and it’s too complex to write here, but even though I know, I still can’t shift it. Although writing this post, seeing it in black-and-white and rationalising it, certainly helped me gain perspective.
Keep doing what you do, Sue, and enjoy your time with friends. You give a lot to literature, Australian literature in particular, and your support is always appreciated. Enjoy your breaks without guilt—now I’m off to heed my own advice!
Haha, thanks Louise – let’s keep reminding each other!
Yes, lets! Take care, Sue. 🙂
Lovely post Louise. I saved this read for the very end of my working day, so that I could go home and feel inspired and hopeful that my time will come. And it did that and more. You captured the deliciousness of what us introverts crave – time to wallow in our words and have no commitments to jar us out of the frame of mind we are in. I love my family and close friends dearly, but if they intrude on my creative time, I feel such a resentment. Far better to let me come out of my cave (or in your case, your attic!) on my own than be winkled out by the goings on out there. 🙂 I love reading your journey with your manuscript.
Thanks so much for reading and commenting, Jodie! It’s so nice to hear from other introverts who relate to what I’ve said—I wondered if people might think I was just really weird! I feel the same as you if I’m forced out of my cave/attic, and I get very grumpy if I don’t get the opportunity to get inside it. I’ve felt much better these last few days having spent a prolonged period inside it and inside my head. (Mind you, I’m still looking forward to getting back in there again—too much time alone is never enough!)