Abandoned

One of the questions new writers ask me at writers' conferences, or via email, is "How do I know when I should give up on my manuscript?" Either it's an unfinished project, or it's a book they've gone over two or three times on rewrites and it's STILL not fully working.

Good question.

When I open up my Word files, I have approximately 12 abandoned books. They range from single chapters or chapters and a synopsis, to books hovering in the 175-page range, but not quite done. Of them, I think I will completely gut one and start over (my group knows that one as Eden's Poison) . . . and one I will finish pretty much as is . . . and one I will eliminate the HUGE back story dump in chapter one and then submit on proposal. Two others are definitely worth pursuing, but other projects had deadlines, and so they will have to wait.

The others? I have a feeling they will never see the light of day. But being a superstitious sort of gal . . . I hate to delete them. Just in case.

So why did I abandon these poor, hapless manuscripts?

• Can't nail the voice. There's a high concept there, but the voice just never gelled. Very often, when that's the case, I might be able to pick a different character to tell it and possibly salvage the idea.
• Great voice, not enough of a hook. Sometimes, I have a rock-solid voice. I have one abandoned noir novel with a very strong voice, but I realize the concept is just ho-hum. Won't sell unless I take the voice and put it in a stronger storyline.
• Ran out of plot.
• Was never REALLY sure where it was going and it shows around page 125 or so.
• It's "almost" there, but I think I need some distance.

So the $64,000 question? How do you know when to give it up?

I sell traditionally, so for me, the questions rests on whether I think it's the kind of big idea, SPECIAL voice, etc. book that I think a publishing company can get behind. And I personally, again . . . this is me . . . don't want to go with anything less than my A-game. I wouldn't just toss a so-so formerly abandoned project up on Kindle either. So I'd still want my A-game (and THEN if it didn't sell traditionally . . . I'd see what I might do with it).

I think if you boil your back cover copy down to 100 words and nothing truly special jumps out that makes a reader think, "WOW! This sounds different!" . . . if the first five pages don't make a reader want to devour more . . . if the whole thing feels meh . . . maybe it's time to start something fresh.

But there's also something to be said for tenacity. And again, I think if the hook/concept and idea is fresh, but you're struggling with bringing it to its fruition, keep at it. Especially if you believe in its specialness.

Thoughts? What makes you abandon a manuscript?

Kicking and Screaming

No, this is not a post about Demon Baby.

It's about works in progress. The ones we avoid. And the ones we should avoid.

A certain someone (ahem . . . you know who you are) . . . has been sharing with me chapters of a potential work-in-progress. Now I like ALL of this writers' work. But this particular piece is stunning. It somehow mixes the most divine literary writing with a really wonderful fantasy plot with a lot of action. When I read it, I get chills.

A certain other someone (ahem . . . you know who you are) has been writing middle-grade for a while and recently shared a mere three pages of a potential adult novel. Holy crap but the voice was awesome.

I myself have a book I have started and stopped two times. My critique group knows it as my Garden Book. I know what the problem is (now . . . two years later) and how to fix it. But I also know the work involved. However, I think there is really something there.

On the flip side, I have writers share chapters with me all the time that . . . well, I don't get chills over. They're not bad writers . . . but the "It" factor, which cannot be taught, isn't there on THAT particular book--and certainly only in my opinion as a reader. I sometimes wish I could say, "No . . . go find your voice in another novel. A different one. Don't push on this one so hard."

Sometimes, we resist our best work. Maybe we KNOW how hard it will be. Or maybe we just don't think we're writer enough for it. Or maybe . . . all I know is we're kicking and screaming.

And sometimes, we're kicking and screaming just as hard to hold onto something we shouldn't.

And it's the wise writer who can figure out which is which.

Thoughts?

Purge

As I go through my computer files, it is always interesting to me to see what I keep and what I purge. Which books I abandoned and which ones I kept. When I go talk at schools, I often say I keep all my ideas because I never know when I might go back and polish one.

But that's not quite true. I do toss some ideas permanently.

I keep . . . anything with a good voice, even if I know the plot's not worthy; anything with a cool hook, even if the voice hasn't gelled; anything that I love but can't sell given the market (have a really awesome chick lit proposal).

I toss . . . anything that feels derivative. Anything where . . . I got a cool idea for a hot genre, but my heart was never quite in it. Anything I re-read that just feels like pure unadulterated crap and a new voice and new hook can't save it.

I save all drafts of all books.

I save cool opening sentences for books they may never come to be.

I purge a lot of meh.

How about you? What do you keep . . . what do you purge?

P.S. Glorious day! The Giants won their season opener.

Letting Go

No matter where you are in your writing career, at some point, you will have to let go. You will have to stop tweaking and send off a query to an agent, or stop tweaking and send it to an editor, but at some point, you just have to let it go. I can't tell you how many times I hear from writers, "An editor asked to see my work, but since I queried, I've already totally rewritten the first 175 pages . . . what should I do?" Um . . . let it go?

The longer you are in the biz, the more you realize you are tweaking through your editor's edit, then the copy editor's edit . . . then the galleys. Striking a word here, a word there.

Freudian Slip got moved to a June schedule . . . which meant what? Oh, yes, it can get promoted as a beach read. Sure, it means more time to prepare. But guess what? I get to go through it all this week before it REALLY goes in for its line edit. I am like a junkie being offered free crack.

It doesn't matter whether I feel the book is flawed or fabulous. If I feel the book is flawed, I want to make sure I fix it. Maybe I turned it in and realized I could still do x or y to shore up a secondary character's motivations. If I feel it's fabulous, I want it to be MORE fabulous. Or, in the case of Julian in Freudian Slip, I am so utterly fond of him that I don't want to say good-bye. That's really part of it. I can't bear the thought of leaving him. Because once I send him off, really . . . he's gone. Then I'll have to find a new lover--in the novelistic sense, of course.

Deadlines and publication seem to be the ultimate cure for letting go. Then again . . . Magickeepers is a trilogy so I let go only to pick the characters back up again.

Anyone else have trouble letting go? And if you have queried an agent and rewritten your entire book? All I can say is there's no such thing as a small crack problem. You need rehab.

Manuscript Pyre

I have shared here before that I save everything. I never erase any of the ideas on my computer--even single sentences get saved. I have come to the conclusion that life's journey, the writing journey, is so twisting, with so many unexpected corners and hills--up and down--that I will never know when something that once wasn't working might be resurrected when I, as writer, am in a different place.

But when is it time to abandon a manuscript. To put it on the great manuscript funeral pyre?

Note, I said I never erase anything. I don't say, though, that I never abandon anything. I do. I wouldn't have a thousand saved ideas and files and sentences if that didn't mean at some point, what I had wasn't working and I knew it was time to give it a rest.

But . . . it's all in discernment. It's all in the writer and his or her process. Writing can be hard--not hard as in back-breaking labor, but hard as in sometimes you really have to write through slumps in a manuscript, through scenes that aren't working, through a voice that just isn't coming to life. You work it through and end up with something good.

But I have also seen writer friends take that philosophy and stick with manuscripts that I think are beyond hope for the moment. I have seen someone so determined to write an idea that they write and re-write the first chapter fifteen times and it STILL doesn't work. At some point, is it time to move on--for now--to something that "clicks"?

The question is individual. I will look forward to seeing the responses. I think for me, there is some internal voice that says, "You have something here." I may not know what it is, but I just can feel it. And that same internal voice, sometimes, gets real honest and says, "You are not executing this well right now. Let it alone. You are not the writer for this--AT THIS MOMENT. Come back to it." And I know the journey of writing may afford me an opportunity to come back to it when I am the writer for it AT THAT MOMENT.

I know working on multiple novels at the same time doesn't work for everyone, but I like to think that for me, it allows me to discern. I don't feel a pressure that I have to make THIS manuscript work NOW. Maybe it's a bit like the scultpter and clay. I can mold it, re-wet it in the morning and fix what didn't work yesterday, and I can wait for the clay to speak to me. I don't have to take something already turned to stone and try to chisel away at it. I can wait for the organic process to happen.

On a purely practical point, sometimes when I know a manuscript has "it," but I do not, I consider it a temporary thing. Like having a writer flu. I don't abandon it permanently, but only until the flu passes and I can return to it with enthusiasm. Sometimes all it takes is seeing an inspiring movie, a day of rest, a day of fun, or a week's vacation.

So . . . when do you know it's time to put something on the manuscript pyre?

Peace,
E

P.S. I cannot tell you how many emails I got from lurkers who read the story in the COMMENTS section of the syrup post--the story about my son sticking like flypaper to the kitchen table. I am so glad my ridiculous life makes you all laugh! :-)