Kathryn K. Murphy

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Do your best. Then do better.

I've focused many of my recent posts on the importance of and plan for editing, something I've struggled to dedicate my time to in the past. While writing about this process can come easy, taking the time to sit down and get to work can be another story. 

But I'm relentless, and I've been busy. 

In part, this is because nothing motivates me like an existential crisis in the middle of the night. If you haven't had one recently, let me tell you, it's great for lighting a fire under the tush. All kidding aside, I have lost count of the chapters to which I've taken an ax. I've also reworked my entire beginning with a few key points in mind. So far I'm happy with the results, but the real data will come in the form of feedback from contests I've already entered with the old beginning compared with the ones to which I'll be submitting the new version.

To focus my energy on this process, I'm going to share the essential elements I have kept in mind as I rewrite my best work yet. 

1. Get the ax.

If every character needed someone to tell them what to do, we wouldn't be interested. No one tells Harry Potter to fight Voldemort. No one tells Katniss Everdeen to volunteer as tribute. No one tells Luke Skywalker to seek out Obi-Wan. No one tells Bruce Wayne to spend too much money to fight crime as Batman. I could go on and on listing almost every single movie, book, or TV show as an example.

In many cases, these characters are told to do the opposite and play it safe, but they don't, and that's where the story starts. Perhaps this is part of the reason many people take issue with the number of times in pop culture female characters look to the male characters when things get tough and ask the fated question, "What do we do?" They're passive. They aren't the ones making a choice. We also could debate if this is why so many Disney and Pixar characters are orphans. Pretty tough to go on a dangerous quest with a parent who talks real low through their teeth as they say, "I don't care what they're doing, I said get back here right now." 

 So guess who didn't sleep for days after lying awake one night and realizing the main male character has to be told to go and introduce himself to the female lead. Yeah, it wasn't pretty, especially considering I had written the next four chapters around that concept and had already rewritten them several times.

Awesome. 

So I went to the shed and got an ax, not really, but metaphorically speaking it was a bloodbath. I waited for a few days, testing out my new idea with my closest advisors, but I already knew the right answer and what I had to do. Maybe one day I'll find it poetic that like my characters, I chose to act, causing further pain to myself to reach my ultimate goals, but at two in the morning it was just annoying and depressing. Does this make me the Batman of writing? Somebody get me an Alfred. 

2. Every word needs to earn its place. 

Duh, right? No one loves getting a long-winded email sent "reply all," so why would we waste our precious time reading words we don't need? Furthermore, why would we bother with pages of lukewarm description when a searing hot sentence can get the job done? The first page of a book is about three hundred words. This half-page needs to be the firm, first handshake for every agent, editor, publisher, and reader. First impressions are tough to undo, so getting those words right is paramount to success. 

I had to write one such page for a class I'm taking, where every word needed to work overtime to create a setting. The assignment challenged me to not only use all of the senses but make sure every word was perfect in definition, connotation, and sound. For example, while there isn't much of a technical difference between the words hold, grip, and clutch, the nuance of each one creates subtle differences. 

Now on a good day, I can crank out about a thousand words of new material in thirty minutes, but when agonizing over every single word this time I ended the day with three paragraphs and a migraine, but I'm happier with the final product. While it is true you cannot edit a blank page it is also true that writers create novels word by word, and pushing down to the molecular level during editing will result in a more stable foundation for the story. 

3. Summarize, but don't summarize. 

My worn, personal copy of Outlander. 

Here's a fun challenge: Describe the whole basis for your series in three hundred words without any backstory. Sounds easy right? If only it were. On the surface, the first page and chapter of a book need to hook readers while immersing them in another, believable world with explicit detail. On a deeper level, those same words must also act as a summary of the core of the story that answers the question: Who are these people and what do they want? 

Diana Gabaldon's Outlander first sentence presents a compelling example. "It wasn't a very likely place for disappearances, at least at first glance." Even if you don't know the book series or TV show, you could tell me what is about to happen just from those thirteen words. The entire book series centers on that core point. After getting that out of the way, Gabaldon goes into a scene where the character is leaving to go on a quest in a room painted with masterful detail, giving us action, setting, and a metaphor again for what is about to happen.

Well done, madam. Well done. 

I've rewritten my first chapter too many times already, but perfection doesn't come with speed or ease, so if you need me I'll be rewriting my best work and making it better.

Stay relentless,

Kathryn