Back to the Beginning

Every writing project I have ever worked on, has worked differently.

At least two of my ten books for children, I started writing, did not stop until I had finished, and then went back and revised.

Each of my two non fiction books began with a detailed outline that I used like a road map, taking unmarked roads from time to time, but mostly getting where I needed to be by the end of each writing day.

But my favoured way of writing long fiction--I did write short stories for many years, which were another story all together--is to write in scenes and cobble them together. I am most energized by the 'best bits', the scenes with tension, action and drama. I usually leave the connective tissue until later. And after the cobbling is over, I use a system of reverse outlining to evaluate what's on the page.

But when I approached revision of Return of the Summer Fish, it was a different matter all together. Once I dug up three different folders containing scenes--many of which I had written as much as twelve years ago--I had to come up with a different approach. Many were duplicate scenes, but included different actions, dialogue, and sometimes even different settings. For example, I had set the midpoint scene in the British Club swimming pool, in a bathroom mid-game of Jacks, and in the back of a taxi driving across a desert road. One of the pivotal characters had not shown up until a couple of years ago so does not appear in most scenes. And I had to revisit the issue of diversity in my story.

Much like playing jacks, I ended up tossing all those scenes in one pile, picking them up randomly one by one, trying to figure out where they belonged--for now--and stringing them together in a binder, something I have not used since my very early books.

I am using a spreadsheet to document each scene's main goal and action, the word count of each scene, and which of the three throughlines they represent - sibling rivalry, secrets or lies. (If you have not heard of the theory of throughlines, the linked article is useful).

I have a dedicated notebook of every thought that occurs to me about the book, whether I am at my desk, doing the dishes or in a casual conversation. I can no longer trust my memory to retain some of the brilliant insights and ideas I come up with. And if I scratch them out on scraps of paper, I knew I will not find them when I need them - if ever.

It's a cumbersome process, reading the hard copy drafts, consulting and making notes on the manuscripts pages and the digital files, and making sense of all my To-Do notes. And leaping in to write new scenes as they occur to me.

But I am sticking to it. Even on days when I would rather be at my art table, out in the weather, or socializing.

I have not dared set a deadline for finishing the first 'good draft' of the book. But I have a deadline for setting a deadline - which is just one more step in this very long 12-year+ process.