I finished rewriting my novel last week. The elation and relief! I looked back over my blog posts and saw that I’d started rewriting it in early June last year, so it took me nearly nine months to complete. I won’t reiterate how hard I found it at times and how many times I thought about shelving it. For good.
My writing group has read each section as I’ve completed it, and to be able to send the final chapters to them was a reward in itself. To draw the line on it and say, This is it. This is the story. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, nothing and no one will make me rewrite it again.
So I printed it out, sat down with my red pen, and started to read it from beginning to end. I’m always amazed by how quickly I forget my own words and at times I was surprised by what I’d written. Usually pleasantly. I actually enjoyed the first 100 pages.
Then I hit a boring patch. That happens, I told myself and kept reading. However, by about page 150 things still hadn’t picked up, and I knew that if I’d been a reader seeing it for the first time, I’d have put it down and not picked it up again.
Feeling rather deflated, I slept on it, then read the same pages again the next morning. I still hated them.
I wrote in my journal:
‘I don’t know if all writers feel like this about their work, but right now, I hate mine. I don’t know if it’s because I’m sick of the sight of it, sick of the characters, and sick of the story because I know it so well and it bores me. Whether it’s that, or whether it really is shit and I’ve just spent the last five years writing something that no one will want to read, I don’t know. I was hoping to read and love my own novel. Maybe it’s that we get so far in amongst the trees that we can’t see the forest. Maybe I’ve just lost perspective. Maybe that’s all it is. I hope so.’
I hoped it was just that I was sick to death of my own words, but something told me it wasn’t. So, I did what I always do when I have a sinking feeling in my belly—I took my dogs and the camera and set off for a long walk. I was on my way back when the answer hit me: It’s the voice. The voice is missing.
The plot, the characters, everything else was there—I’d just lost my narrator’s voice. I’d written these scenes a couple of years’ ago when I didn’t know as much as I do now and when I’d been concentrating on getting the story down. I’d shaped them and got them so they told a story and continued the plot, but I’d forgotten to tell them in the voice of my narrator, and the scenes were boring without her unique perspective and her way of telling a story.
So, in that short walk I went from hating my novel and feeling as though I’d wasted the last few years working on it, to itching to get back and fix it up. Walking is good like that.
Meanwhile, the rest of my life hasn’t stopped just because I’m trying to finish a novel: we have a house renovation starting tomorrow. It will involve demolition of a couple of walls and cooking with camping equipment for a few weeks, so please excuse me if I’m not as available online. I’m telling myself it will be worth it in the end, and that at least it will be an experience!
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Now for some photos: I took these in the rain last weekend and turned them into black and white. I’ve already shown one for Midweek Moment and in my spiel for that, I commented that the trees looked as if they’d been strung up with fairy lights. I hope these photos have captured some of that magic.
The lake dries out in summer and looks desolate. Especially with a lone ibis standing on a decaying log in the centre:
At the end, I had two very wet, but very happy, canines:
And this New Holland Honeyeater was soaking it up, too:
Congratulations! I look forward to reading it.????
Keep your fingers crossed, Margaret, that someone will want to publish it. Thanks for visiting! xx
How inspired you are— both in your photography and in recognizing your missing voice! It’s more than luck I think it’s wisdom learned from your past efforts.
I’m happy for you. I hope you can work through the demolition errr remodeling,
Thanks, Penny. I think one creative pursuit complements the other—when I’ve hit a hard patch in the writing, I get out the camera and that seems enough to keep the creativity going, but also gives my writing brain time to regenerate.
(PS. There are drills and hammers going on downstairs as I type this—it will be worth it in the end, I know!)
Fantastic that your novel is finished. Wonderful accomplishment. Congratulations!
Thank you! Nearly finished reading it through, although the dust and rubble is starting to take over. :/
Congratulations, Louise! Fantastic news, I’m so pleased for you 🙂 Really looking forward to reading the finished book.
And I love your ‘fairy light’ photos – they are just magical, a celebration in lights of your accomplishment 🙂
Thanks, Helen! I’ve read on from the rough section, and it seems to have been only those 50 pages or so—I’m enjoying reading my story again! As I said, I wrote most of those sections a couple of years ago, and I just wasn’t experienced enough then to trust Ida’s voice. I’ll have to read over them again to check, but I think it’s fixed. x
Yay! I love that 🙂 It’s wonderful when you can see concrete progress in your own work – that’s when perseverance in the face of all the obstacles writing can throw at you really pays off 🙂
I agree. It takes perseverance, that’s for sure. I love that Ira Glass quote on this—You probably know it, but if you don’t, let me know and I’ll send a link. I won’t quote it here, because it’s long. You don’t realise you’re making progress until you look back and re-read something you were once proud of and realise how amateur it is! In a few years, I’ll probably do the same with my current writing. x
Yes, I know the quote you mean (the one about no-one tells this to beginners). I feel the same way about my own work – it took me two years to get Oak and Mist to a point where I was happy with it, and even now I look at it, a year later, and there are a couple of things I could change. But I won’t – it’s where I was at that time as an artist. I’m glad I didn’t publish the original version though! 😀
Yes, that’s the quote. I sometimes want to delete some of my older blog posts, but I don’t because, as you say, it’s where I was at that time. We’re kind to kids when they’re learning (or we should be!), but we’re not as kind to adults, yet we’re also learning. And good on us for stepping outside our comfort zones and taking a risk. Let’s hope it pays off—although, in many ways, it already has. 🙂
Yes, good on us, exactly 🙂 It has paid off – I’m so glad I decided to take the plunge. Not sure what I’d be doing now if I wasn’t writing.
I know I wouldn’t be as happy. I wouldn’t quite go as far as to say writing saved my life, but the best thing I ever did for myself was give my childhood a voice. As for writing fiction, most of the time I feel as if I’m just playing the imaginary games I did as a child. Major rewrites aside, of course! ????
Congratulations Louise! I have just finished plugging up a hole and editing my second book, ready for publishing. Fabulous photography too!!
Thank you, Leeanda! I’ve been following your blog and your cover is beautiful! It must be a wonderful feeling to be so close to publication. Best wishes. xx
Congratulations Louise, what a huge achievement
Thank you very much, Kooky! 🙂
Yes. Walking gets that blood flowing to the brain doesn’t it. Congratulations Louise. It’s fabulous. And so are those photographs by the way. Is there no end to your talent and ability?
Walking is my go-to exercise for clearing the brain, as I’m sure swimming or running is for others. I solve all of my problems on my walks! I’m glad you liked the photos. Thank you. x
Congratulations, Louise. That really is something. Kudos for being able to see what was lacking and then doing something about it.
Thanks, Margaret! As Ernest Hemingway said, “The most essential gift for a good writer is a built-in, shockproof, shit detector”. As much as our inner critic gets in the way at times, we really need it when editing. I guess the difference is to not write the whole novel off as bad just because of one, fixable flaw. Thank you for visiting, and I hope your writing is going well. x