On Humiliation
Again
Leigh liked the new novel very much.
That’s what she told me. ‘I like it very much.’
I meant to say this a couple of weeks ago.
(Some of you may have been wondering.)
She read it almost immediately after I handed it to her, in a big printed out draft. She sped through it in less than a week, then told me what she thought — which was much more detailed and critical after the I like it.
But I was superstitious about passing this good news on.
And then I got distracted into writing about other things that might be more useful. Like stumbling dialogue, suggestiveness, and POV.
Leigh thought there was still work to be done on the novel.
I agreed, after feeling grouchy for about a day. I thought I was closer to being finished than I was.
There is at least another draft to be done. And I have to go back, again-again, to what I’ve so often taught others.
On Friday, I did a webinar, to promote the Creative Writing MA at Southampton. (There are still a few places left, if you felt like applying. I’ll be running the writing workshop next year.)
With only five minutes to do a sample writing exercise, and feeling the limitations of a Zoom call where I couldn’t see any of the attendees, I began by quoting George Saunders from A Swim in a Pond in the Rain —
I’ve worked with so many wildly talented young writers over the years that I feel qualified to say that there are two things that separate writers who go on to publish from those who don’t.
First, a willingness to revise.
Second, the extent to which the writer has learned to make causality.
Then I did a simplified version of the Ali Smith exercise. Grab some characters, places, objects and moods out of the air.
All the time I was preparing for this, then delivering it, I realised I needed to hear the basics just as much as any of the potential students attending.
It’s humbling, it’s really gruesomely humbling, that — after all the writing I’ve done — I still have to go back to relearning this.
A willingness to revise, and revise in order to make causality.
Yes, that’s what I have to relearn, on one level. But on a deeper level the real lesson is —
There is no getting away from the absolutely necessary humiliation.
And so, in case you’re curious about what I’m up to, that’s what I’m doing.
The basics.
Again.
I think I refer to this causality business you mention as 'threading', as in a tapestry where a thread of detail disappears only to reappear later. (Is that it? Or are you thinking more of broad-brush plot creation?) I find 'threading' a tricky business. Sometimes it's fairly simple to do - a new scene; a line of dialogue inserted; a hint at at character trait. Other times it's more complex because I don't want to give too much away, too early. And that is where a first reader is invaluable since they don't know what's going to happen. Of course, once they've read it, the hints appear bigger and they know where you're going... And how about agents where they already have a synopsis? (Imagine being the agent who digested the synopsis to *Fingersmith* and so already knew about *that* twist...could they even begin to fathom the impact of such a turnaround on the reader?) Much to ponder. Good luck with your next draft.