Did You See Any Lightning?

I just now, this very second, realized my problem.

I've been through a strangely hellish yet very encouraging ride over the last two years in my quest to sell a novel. Sometimes I think the quest is just that—a Quixotic thing, and as soon as I actually get an offer, I'll get hit by lightning. I'm like that old priest in Caddyshack. He played the game of his life, but he sure picked his days badly.

So ... right now, it looks like another publisher is about to ask for non-contractual revisions to one of my books. That would make three. If it happens this way, I'd have to put those revisions in line with the other set of non-contractual revisions I'm currently working on (and I hope are finally going well, thank you very much).

I know the economy is an issue, and no one really wants to take a chance on an unknown author, but c'mon people, this is getting a little ridiculous. Still, I'm not complaining. I know I'm lucky to even be getting this level of attention. My rejections are actually pretty uplifting. It could be worse.

Which brings me back to my problem. I'm not the bitter type, or the envious type, or even the defeated type (on most days). But I'm afraid I'm becoming the cynical type. I was just sitting here thinking, "You know what, it doesn't matter whatever revisions I do, it's just going to be the same thing all over again ..."

I wish I could say I was too young to be cynical, but I think I'm exactly the right age to be cynical.

You Can Field This One

Jake (my 4-year old): "What are these called again?"

Me: "Slugs. No, wait, I'm sorry. I wasn't really looking. They're grubs."

Jake: "They're cute. They're my pets."

Me: "Your pets? OK."

Jake: "They were under this log. I found them. Look at all the ants. There are so many ants!"

Me: "Huh."

Jake: "Look! Look! They're moving! That one just lifted his face up and you know what?"

Me: "What?"

Jake: "He had ants all over his face!"

Me: "I bet he doesn't like that very much."

Jake: "Why not?"

Me: "You wouldn't like to be covered with ants, would you?"

Jake: "No way!"

Max (my 14 year old) wanders out

Jake: "Max! Max! Come here and look! These are ... what are they called again, Dad?"

Me: "Slugs. I mean grubs."

Jake: "These are my grubs! They're so cute! They're my pets."

Max: "Beauty is in the eye of the beholder."

Jake: "And look! His face is covered with ants!"

Max, squatting down to look: "Dad, are those ants eating the grubs alive?"

Me: "Yep. But I wasn't trying to draw too much attention to it. They're his pets, after all."

Max: "That would be horrible. Jake, we should give them a quick death."

Jake: "What's death?"

Me, laughing: "You can field this one, Max."

Talky Talky ... My Bag of Tricks

I don't know about anyone else, but I've got more writing tricks than ... Carters has pills? (What does that mean anyway? When I was growing up, I thought it meant President Carter was a drug addict. He's not, right?)

By tricks, I mean little writing games and process stuff and ways I actually approach a book. For a while, I was just obscenely into note cards. I used to write plot points on note cards like a deck, then lay them all out on the floor and shuffle stuff around until it clicked. Then came the Monster Outline phase, in which I once wrote a 60-page, single-space outline of a book I never actually got around to writing. And lately, I've discovered a new thing ... I call it talky talky.

Every night this week, after the "writing day" is done and I'm sitting in front of the TV or wherever, I've had a notebook propped open and I'm writing pure dialogue scenes. The game is this: all dialogue, with only the most minor of stage directions. It's actually really fun, and it's the best way I've found yet to get into my characters' heads. I used to write "character sketches," but that never really worked for me. But if I just let them express themselves, and their own histories and ambitions, in the words they would actually use--well, I find that big chunks of that notebook make their way into the book.

Let's see. I also read my book out loud. I edit chapters randomly, just opening the file, clicking somewhere in the middle and starting to edit. And every so often, I'll do the dreaded "book in a day" edit, in which I'll read and edit the whole book in one long day. I do the Post-It thing, the margin thing, the argue-with-my-beta-readers thing.

Jeez. It's actually starting to sound a little crazy.

But I don't really care how the process looks from the outside. My thing is pretty simple: it's all about words on a page at the end of the day. If the final draft ends up right on paper, I don't care if you had to write the first draft in mayonnaise on your naked body by the light of the half-moon to get it that way. And in fact, if that actually works for anybody, let me know. I'm pretty much willing to give anything a shot.