Your sock drawer can enhance the joy (yes, joy) of rewriting

“When you say something,

make sure you have said it,”

says  E. B. White.

“The chances of your having said it are only fair.”

He’s right. Rarely can we write a clear message the first time, or even the second or third time.

I’ve heard that 80 percent of what we communicate is misunderstood.

That means we communicate accurately only 20 percent of the time.

That’s scary.

Several of us are using these summer months to rework our memoirs’ rough drafts because (1) our stories are important and (2) we want to be sure we’ve said what we meant to say.

We want our stories to be clear to other people.

“You write to discover what you want to say.

You rewrite to discover what you have said

and then rewrite to make it clear to other people.”

Donald Murray

Let’s pin down a definition of rewriting.

Scott Edelstein says, “Rewriting, revising, and revision all mean the same thing: looking at a piece again and writing it over, using a fresh approach or perspective. The result of each rewrite is a new draft of your piece.” (1,818 Ways to Write Better & Get Published)

“… There are many different ways to rewrite, and many different legitimate approaches to it,” he points out. “Feel free to do whatever seems best for your piece.”

How many times must a writer rewrite? Edelstein’s answer: “There is no ‘right’ number of rewrites.… Do however many revisions are necessary to get your piece into finished shape.”

“Get used to rewrites,” advises Dr. John Yeoman. “Make [your stories] as good as you can, and then drop them in your sock drawer for a month. They’ll develop errors, dull interludes, and patches of downright ugliness all by themselves. That’s the time to fix them. Then drop them back in the drawer for another month and do it all over again.” (Five Winning Habits of Successful Writers) 

Donald Murray acknowledges the joys of rewriting. “… The act of revision is central to the pleasure of making. When we build a house, bake a batch of Christmas cookies…, write an essay, we add to the world. And in the making we lose ourselves.…

“Before I sit down to write I put on [music] and turn up the volume, but when I become lost in the writing and rewriting I no longer hear the music or know if it stops; I forget the time, the place, who I am going to meet for lunch.…

“The joy—yes, joy—of crafting a text under my hand and with my ear is a daily satisfaction to me.” (The Craft of Revision)

May, you, too, find joy and satisfaction in revising your stories!

Shallow, hollow, dull, and bland are out!

At a rummage sale, I discovered a book about Eleanor Roosevelt and her husband, Franklin, and I snatched it up before anyone else discovered it. With a grin, I plunked down my money.

I was eager to know more about that remarkable lady so I hurried home and curled up with it, thick and heavy, anticipating a delightful read.

The book was anything but delightful, however. My eagerness turned to disappointment, and disappointment turned to dislike. After an hour, I quit.

A few days later I gave that book a second chance: I forced myself to read but, after a few minutes, I closed it with that same disinterest.

That book lacked appeal, it lacked charm, it lacked personality, it lacked life. It contained page after page of dry, dull facts.

The lesson for all of us: Let’s give our stories’ characters life.

Recently I suggested that summer might be a good time to take a break from writing so you can revise vignettes you’ve already written.

We covered clarity on June 23, and today we’ll look at the people in your stories.

How do we craft multidimensional characters?

We use details to describe our stories’ main people.

Let’s start with their quirks, their idiosyncrasies, their oddities.

I was tempted to give examples by telling you about friends’ or relatives’ eccentricities but instead, I’ll poke fun at myself.

Recently someone pointed out that I slurp my coffee. Then someone pointed out my husband and my kids slurp their coffee. My brother slurps his coffee. This slurping has gone on for generations but we weren’t aware of it. Our habit drives family newcomers nuts.

My daughter teases me for never remembering a joke’s punch line. The family cracks up just watching me try to remember it.

My husband ribs me because, he says, I sneeze like a horse.

And I learned this tidbit a few days ago: “Linda has this funny way of gasping when she sees something funny, or scary, or sad, or amusing, or interesting, or dangerous, or boring. I often think something is about to fall on my head.” I had no idea.

I also learned that after impressionable young people hang out with me for a few days, they start to gasp, too. I had no idea.

OK, so there you have it: some of my quirks. I hope they give you ideas for capturing uniqueness in your stories’ characters.

Include body language, gestures, and mannerisms.

Slip in their habits, their education, their likes and dislikes.

Was his career also his passion? Or did he work at a job to feed and clothe his kids and seek his passion on weekends and evenings?

What were her talents, hobbies, pastimes, dreams, and hopes for the future?

What were his values, beliefs, political leanings, and philosophies?

Use dialog to capture words she often used, the way she put words together in a sentence, and her tone of voice.

When you describe your main characters, use all five senses: Let readers see, smell, hear, feel, and taste what you experienced.

Let no cardboard characters creep around in your memoir. 

Shallow, hollow, dull, and bland are out!

Charm, fascination, and entertainment are in!

For inspiration and smiles, I recommend Connie Schultz’s vignette that ran in Sunday’s Parade magazine; click on It’s a Wonderful Life. 

Always remember Donald Murray’s words: “Revision is not punishment.”

Revision is your opportunity to polish your manuscript and make it shine.

Writer’s block? No problem. You can still make progress on your memoir.

Everybody gets stuck from time to time.  

Writer’s block: You want to write. You know how to write. For some reason, however, you can’t write.

Take heart. Ernest Hemingway, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Charlie Schultz, and Mark Twain struggled with writer’s block, too.

Does “writer’s block” describe you today?

If so, don’t despair. For one thing, writer’s block is temporary.

And here’s more good news: You can still make progress—valuable progress—on your memoir.

This is your opportunity to spiff up your already-written rough drafts, those vignettes that will someday—soon, we hope!—be stories in your memoir.

I’m talking about editing, tinkering, rearranging—revising.

Revision is not punishment,

says veteran writer Donald M. Murray in The Craft of Revision. 

“Writing evolves from a sequence of drafts,” he says. “Scientists … experiment.… Actors and musicians rehearse. Retailers test markets, politicians take polls, manufacturers try pilot runs. They all revise, and so do writers. Writing is rewriting.”

Even professional writers know the benefits of revision.

If you’re stuck with writer’s block, or just need a summer break, use this time to revise vignettes you’ve already written.

Revision, Murray says, is “re-seeing the entire piece of writing.” So important.

Revision involves checking punctuation, grammar, spelling, diction (word choice), sentence length, focus (meaning), rhythm, cutting (writing tight), organization, and so on.

I suggest you consider each separately as you evaluate a rough draft.

For now, concentrate on clarity.

Start by reading a vignette you haven’t read for a while because distance and time are your friends: They do wonders for objectivity. The fresher the story is in your memory, the harder it will be to catch things you want and need to change.

“Clarity depends … on your ability to put information together so that readers know at every point where they are, where they’ve been, and where they seem to be going,” writes Peter P. Jacobi. 

“When we read, our minds work in linear fashion. We cannot grasp jumps and jerks or even the sudden shifts of scene.…” Jacobi continues. “We have to be moved carefully, smoothly, through the [story].”

Donald Murray encourages a writer to read a rough draft the first time as the maker of that piece, and then read it again as a stranger.

Put yourself in your readers’ shoes. Does your vignette make sense, or does it cause confusion?

Look for gaps: Did you leave out information your readers need to know? Will they grasp your story’s message?

Remember, it’s not in your story until it’s in black and white on your page.

Do another clarity check on lingo and vocabulary. Search for words readers might not understand—abstract words, academic, foreign, technical, or old fashioned words. If you spot any, change them because your reader probably won’t finish reading if he doesn’t understand your words.  

In future posts we’ll look at other aspects of revision but for today, eschew obfuscation. Strive for clarity.

Always remember Donald Murray’s words: Revision is not punishment.

Revision is your opportunity to polish your manuscript and make it shine.