Diary of a Mad Editor

Archive for the ‘Revision’ Category

The Devil is in the Details II: an afterthought about research and list-making

In regards to that neo-noir novella I mentioned the other day — here’s why is always important to do you homework and why list-making can sometimes help:

The other day I was going over the first chapter and realized I made a big mistakes. See, the opening of the story is set in Laughlin, NV. The protagonist works in one those Laughlin hotels and casinos as a dealer. The hook is that the guy runs afoul of his shady boss and has to skip town. The problem is that the “hotel” in the story is really a just a whorehouse with onsite gambling. The problem? I must’ve been so worked up over the idea when writing about the place that I forgot an important detail: Laughlin is in Clark County. So now I’ve got to make a choice — move the whorehouse to another location or turn the brothel into a regular hotel/casino and leave it in Laughlin.

And that’s why it’s important to do your homework. And if I’d made a list of items that would remind me to do my homework — say a list of Nevada tourist sites or a list of brothels, I wouldn’t have to do so much rewriting and would have save myself more time in the long run.

I’m Gonna Quit You Baby and Mosey on Down the Highway, Get Some Distance Between Me and You

Emotional distance.

It’s one of those made-up phrases given to us by clinical psychologists:

Tommy has been emotionally distant since his father’s suicide.

Dr. Nelson found it difficult to distance himself emotionally from his patients.

In creative writing, we usually speak of emotional distance as being a personal detachment between the writer and what has been written — a process of letting go. This process of letting go happens (or, in the case studies I’ll get to shortly, sometimes fails to happen) at several junctures during the writing process.

Writing can, at times, be an emotionally draining experience for the writer depending on how much effort that writer puts into it. One’s personal attachments both to the material and to one’s own personal reality can be as much a hindrance as an asset during the creative process. For my purposes, I’m going to illustrate three different types of stumbling blocks toward establishing emotional distance in one’s writing: Attachment to personal reality, attachment to fictional reality, and attachment to one’s own ego.

Attachment to personal reality

As writers we often use our own lives and our own surroundings as source material. This becomes a problem when a writer’s desire to exorcize some personal demon takes precedence over any other consideration. Let’s take my friend . . . well, let’s call her, “Cassandra”. Cassandra is a fine writer, don’t get me wrong. However, last year Cassie got her heart broken by this asshole. Getting over him was made harder by the fact that he was someone she had to see everyday. Naturally, she wrote about it. In the beginning, though, her fictionalized accounts were told solely from the perspective of her broken heart. Mostly, her stories were revenge fantasies. Stories in which her fictional counterpart either got back at her ex for hurting her or got him to come back to her. Not many editors would have seen the flaws in her stories because she often writes stories about jilted lovers and not all editors would’ve been privy to her personal circumstances or had the opportunity to read all of these stories and see how they evolved over many months. And they did finally evolve. Once she mended her broken heart and found much needed emotional distance, she gained a new perspective. Instead of using fictional reality to work-out a problem in her personal reality, she was finally using her personal reality to create a fully realized fictional reality.

Attachment to fictional reality

This is an impediment to a writer’s ability to achieve emotional distance. In some cases, the writer suffers from some psychological or developmental disorder that affects their writing and the way they talk about their writing. Let’s take my friend . . . ah, let’s call her Bertha. Bertha has Asperger’s Syndrome. Now Bertha has been writing a story for what seems like an Ice Age. The story is about a cursed man-demon with a goofy name I can’t pronounce. Beyond that, I have no clue what the story is about really — although, Bertha talks about this character constantly. She speaks about him as if he was a real person. She speaks about him as if he was her lover. She can’t seem to finish the story either. She keeps getting caught-up in the minutia of her characters — so much so that a coherent, well-developed story never emerges. What she has instead is an overlong, over complicated, overwrought character sketch. Whenever she speaks to me about this story, I think, My God! She’s sinking in quicksand; somebody throw her a rope!

Attachment to Ego

This is by far the most common type of impediment. It comes in two flavors and usually happens after the completion of the first draft. The first type is due to a lack of confidence in one’s own writing ability. This writer is so certain that their writing sucks that they can’t detach themselves from their fear of failure and humiliation so their writing is never revised and submitted for publication. It usually ends-up in a drawer somewhere with the writer telling people how they’d “like to be a writer someday.”

The second type is the opposite: this writer has too much confidence in themselves — so much so that they refuse to listen to any constructive criticism that might help them improve their writing. They are completely lacking in emotional objectivity about themselves or their writing.

For the first type, I refer you to my friend … how about we call her, “Maggie” (and, yes, I do realize I have a lot of female friends, so shut up). Now, Maggie writes quite a bit. She’s very young and attends a community college. I feel very paternal towards her and, believe it or not, have tried to encourage her development because I think she has some potential. But, for all the writing she does, she rarely finishes her stories or tries to publish her work. She’s just too self-conscious. Not that she can’t handle criticism — it’s more that she’s a little too eager to accept the slightest criticism at face value without any mechanism to filter that criticism and judge the fairness of it.

For our second type, I offer you, “Juliet.” Juliet is a young woman about the same age as Maggie. She also attends college. Juliet was a sickly child and because of this, her parents and everyone else doted on her and indulged her every whim. When she showed an interest in writing at an early age, her parents and English teachers encouraged her to the point where they convinced her that she was the next Joyce Carol Oates or Sylvia Plath or whoever. Juliet, for the record, does have a magnificently large vocabulary and is mature for her age. But, many of us who’ve read her work — at least those of us who don’t have a vested interest in inflating her ego, find her writing to be incredibly dull, unimaginative and unengaging. However, anyone who dares offer any serious criticism of her work receives a long-winded rhetorical defense of her “technique.” She absolutely refuses to see her writing objectively and never revises anything.

Hopefully, these examples fairly demonstrate how distancing yourself emotionally from your writing can help you along the path:

– that when using aspects of your own life as source material, it should be in service the fictional reality you are trying to create and not the other way around — in other words, leave the therapy sessions for your journal.

– that while it is important to have an emotional connection to your characters (after all, if you’re not attached to them, chances are your readers won’t feel attached to them either), it shouldn’t be your raison d’etre.

– Be fearless and confident enough to honor your commitment to the creative process, however . . .

– also be realistic about the limits of your talent and understand that even the best writing is flawed and is subject to improvement. Even Thomas Wolfe and Jack Kerouac had editors.

– Ego has no place in the creative process.

– be your first, most cold-blooded critic. if you can impress that guy, you may be onto something.

I’m Just Another Clown At the Dog ‘N’ Pony Show

I read an interesting essay last year written by poet, Todd Moore in Poesy magazine called, “The Outlaw Poet.” I found myself re-reading it the other day. In it, Moore defines the outlaw poet as one who “opposes the establishment and by standing up against all self-interests of institutions which support academic poetry, the outlaw becomes an authentic writer, an original voice. That and also being a damn good poet to boot?” I find it curious that Moore, a damn fine poet in his own right, would add, as an afterthought, that an outlaw poet have some talent. Taken literally, according to this definition, having talent and a dedication to the art of poetry is a secondary consideration. Taken literally, it is the simple act of being anti-establishment which makes one “an authentic writer, an original voice.”

Of course, I’m taking this definition out of context — if you read the entire essay, it’s clear that Moore doesn’t intend that literal a definition, but it is inartfully expressed nonetheless. The problem is that there are too many wannabe outlaw poets out there these days who do embrace a more literal approach to being an outlaw poet. They have no code, no honor and certainly, little or no talent. I think part of the problem is that the label “outlaw poet” has become fashionable in certain circles. Even academic poets don’t want to be known as “academic poets” anymore — at least not when they submit to non-academic poetry journals. As such, there seems to be this overwhelming need to be a card-carrying outsider, or at least be perceived that way.

I suppose I am an outlaw writer, but I never refer to myself as such. And it’s not because I am ashamed of my status as a marginalized poet. It’s mainly because I believe the moniker of “outlaw” is being overused and I don’t much like being labeled. I prefer to think of myself as just another clown in the dog and pony show that is poetry. In fact, the closest I’ve ever come to celebrating my outlaw status in print was in my poem, “Yet Another Poem About Poetry” — and even then, I never even mentioned the word “outlaw”. But I do have a code, and maybe this code more than anything is what defines me as a writer:

BE THE LONE WOLF, NOT THE SHEEP

It’s not enough to be anti-establishment if all you are doing to fight a particular establishment is merely forming yet another group or establishment. Authentic poets roam alone and wild and free. Also, let me add, don’t go around telling people you’re an “outlaw poet” — especially if you are not so much of one. I’m of the mind that “the first rule of fight club is you don’t talk about fight club.” True outlaw poets recognize their own kind without being told and those who don’t get it, don’t get it. And If your poetry is outlaw, that’s what really matters anyway.

SPEAK TRUTH TO POWER

If you are truly an outlaw poet — especially an American poet, you have a responsibility to stand for something greater than yourself. Remember that dissent is the heart and soul of true patriotism. So be a patriot and let your own flag fly in the face of absurdities and injustices wherever you may find them.

BE INTELLIGENT AND EVER CURIOUS

Read widely and voraciously. Not just poetry either. Read everything. Watch films, expose yourself to all kinds of music and people. Read newspapers. Be engaged in the world around you. A poet’s job isn’t to write about the world as it ought to be but about the world that is.

EXPLORE YOUR OWN VOICE AND PERFECT YOUR CRAFT

Don’t try to be the “next Bukowski.” Instead, become the next, best “You.” Which brings us to . . .

BE TRUE TO YOUR ART

While I’m all for trying new kinds of writing and pushing the envelope — you should never write something just to get it published. If you write free verse and you decide you want to try your hand at a sonnet — do it for the challenge and because you genuinely like sonnets and not because Editor X is doing an anthology and you crave yet another byline.

DON’T FEAR TECHNOLOGY

If you are still writing on an old manual typerwriter in 2008, the 21st century, you are an idiot. Beating the “typer” doesn’t make you a more authentic writer, it just makes you a more inefficient writer.

DON’T FEAR REVISION

First thought may be best thought, but first thoughts aren’t always best expressed the first time around. Being a sloppy, careless writer doesn’t make you a more authentic, original writer either — just makes you a sloppy, careless writer.

STAY AWAY FROM JARGON AND THREE DOLLAR WORDS

Whenever possible use common accessible language. Even if you only have an audience of three people, write as if you are writing for millions. Realize that most people of average intelligence, educated in a public school system and reading in English, read at about a 5th or 6th grade level. While it would be nice if most people brought a dictionary with them and took it upon themselves to learn new words — they won’t and besides, they are reading poetry, not taking an SAT test so always be mindful that the audience you write for is the audience you will get.

BE CONFIDENT, NOT COCKY

It’s a truely brave thing to put your all into all into a singular act of language and it requires a certain amount of faith in oneself to pull it off. But, it’s a fine line between confidence and bravado fueled by delusions of grandeur. Remember, always, that truly good writing sells itself. In other words, if you go around boasting to people that you are the greatest thing since the discovery of fire, you’d better have the talent to back it up.

BE HONEST AND HAVE INTEGRITY

Your word is your bond. Never misrepresent yourself. Always honor your commitments to your fellow poets and to the editors and readers who honor your work.

Given that the poetry world, like every other institution is powered by bullshit, living by this code won’t necessarily lead to success, and may even further marginalize you. But if you aren’t an outsider, you aren’t an outlaw, are you?