{"id":149,"date":"2011-10-12T13:32:00","date_gmt":"2011-10-12T13:32:00","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/gailcarsonlevine.com\/blog\/2011\/10\/12\/gap\/"},"modified":"2015-05-23T23:17:11","modified_gmt":"2015-05-23T23:17:11","slug":"gap","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/gailcarsonlevine.com\/blog\/2011\/10\/12\/gap\/","title":{"rendered":"The Gap"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>Before I start, hope to see some of you this weekend in Rhode Island. If you haven\u2019t seen where I\u2019ll be, check the Appearances page of my website.<\/p>\n<p>Josiphine, whose first question I discussed last week, had a second: &#8230;<i>any tips on rewriting would be extremely appreciated.<\/i><\/p>\n<p>In thinking about my response, I remembered a post on the subject and looked it up. My post of November 18th, 2009, is all about revision. If you read it and have further questions, please ask.<\/p>\n<p>Along the same lines, Ella wrote, <i>I\u2019m the kind of writer that plans everything out before I write. When I come to the few spots that I didn\u2019t plan, I skip over them and go on. But now I\u2019m revising and I have to fill in those gaps, and go back and add details and emotions, but it\u2019s really hard. Any tips?<\/i><br \/>\nLet\u2019s go to pre-revision. In your next story, which you may be working on now, I suggest not skipping these unplanned parts. Since you\u2019re a planner, when you reach such a place, try planning it out and writing it then and there in your first draft.<\/p>\n<p>It\u2019s possible that these spots don\u2019t fit into your overall story scheme. They may reveal plot problems that get worse if you just soldier on. When you fill in later, the emotions may not feel genuine because you\u2019re forcing your characters to act according to your outline, not according to how they\u2019d actually behave in the situation.<\/p>\n<p>You may discover that these junctures are the keys to your story. They may take it in directions that surprise you but represent, or represent more effectively, your underlying theme.<\/p>\n<p>Now let\u2019s fast forward to revision, to the situation you asked about. You\u2019ve got these gaps. It&#8217;s too late for the first draft. What to do?<\/p>\n<p>First off, do you need these scenes? If not, cut them and problem solved.<\/p>\n<p>Do they need to be scenes? Or do they merely represent information that needs to be conveyed, which you can tuck into the narrative or dialogue in another scene? Suppose, for example, that main character Eliot\u2019s uncle has just died, which is important because he was going to pay Eliot\u2019s college tuition. We don\u2019t need the death scene. We may not even need the scene when Eliot finds out. What may be important, however, is his blow-up at his girlfriend Amy because he\u2019s distressed that his education, his hoped-for career, his entire future, is now in doubt. After the argument, during the making up, if he wasn\u2019t too horrible for a reconciliation, he confesses what\u2019s really eating him. Amy and the reader find out together.<\/p>\n<p>If your omissions do have to be scenes, why not plan them even at this late date? (Remember that I\u2019m not a planner and am just guessing how planners make their magic.) Look at where your caesura (If you don&#8217;t know the word, look it up!) fits into your outline. Reread what went before and what comes after. Think about how your characters, acting according to their natures, can bridge the gap. How can they express their feelings through thoughts, action, dialogue? What can you find that interests you, that will make the process fun? Is there some aspect of Eliot, for example, that you haven\u2019t explored before? Has the reader experienced his sense of humor or his intellectual side? Can you bring one of these into the new scene? Outline and then write.<\/p>\n<p>Do the new scenes take place in old settings? Can you move the action somewhere else, somewhere you may enjoy describing? Or, can you highlight unexplored aspects of your setting? Eliot will have needs in this scene, or his girlfriend Amy will. Suppose their argument happens in her bedroom. She\u2019s chilly, so she opens the door to her closet where her sweater and tee-shirt shelves are. Above the sweaters is a shelf of stuffed animals that she\u2019s outgrown but can\u2019t bring herself to throw out. She touches the nose of her stuffed penguin for comfort. The stuffed animals and the gesture brings Eliot to his senses, and he realizes how much he\u2019s upset Amy and how adorable and sweet she is.<\/p>\n<p>I\u2019ve exhausted my ideas on this aspect of revision, but I\u2019d welcome follow-up questions.<\/p>\n<p>So, changing the subject. I\u2019m a radio addict. I love to listen to programs that I can learn from, and one of these is Freakonomics Radio, which applies economic theory to surprising topics. I recently listened to a podcast about quitting, and I\u2019ve been thinking about it ever since. The economists who narrate the show have a position, that quitting is good. They advocate quitting &#8211; anything! &#8211; and quitting quickly.<\/p>\n<p>I\u2019ve been mulling over the program&#8217;s ideas as applied to writing, and I think the good economists left out a lot of complexity. Naturally, they\u2019re arguing against the prevailing idea that quitting &#8211; being a quitter &#8211; is always bad.<\/p>\n<p>Questions come in to the blog sometimes about not finishing stories, and I always say it\u2019s okay not to finish, because we learn from everything we write, fragments as well as completed stories &#8211; as long as we keep writing. Many of you are about to participate in NaNoWriMo, and you\u2019re resolved not to quit. In a month you\u2019ll have a big first draft, and then what?<\/p>\n<p>Since they\u2019re economists, the podcasters talk about costs, in this case two kinds of costs relating to quitting or not quitting. There\u2019s opportunity costs and sunk costs, and they\u2019re kind of opposed to each other. You finish your NaNoWriMo book. Maybe you\u2019ve met your word count, maybe not. Doesn\u2019t matter. You start revising and the going gets rough.<\/p>\n<p>The opportunity costs start beckoning. Every hour you devote to revision is an hour you can\u2019t spend starting a new story &#8211; or eating, sleeping, studying for your Physics exam. You think about quitting, but you remember your sunk costs. You\u2019ve sunk a month into this book, a month when you could have been eating, sleeping, or studying for your Physics exam. If you walk away, you may have wasted that time and energy and creativity.<\/p>\n<p>I\u2019ve been working on <i>Beloved Elodie<\/i> for a dauntingly long time. I\u2019m finally making progress but I don\u2019t think I\u2019m even at the halfway point. Should I have quit, maybe after my second false start?<\/p>\n<p>Possibly, but I guess I\u2019m a sunk-costs type. If I had quit I wouldn\u2019t find out where the story goes. I would find out what other tale was waiting for me, but that other tale isn\u2019t as alive for me as the one I\u2019m butting my head against.<\/p>\n<p>Actually, I did quit. Each time I started over I abandoned the storyline that wasn\u2019t working and I\u2019ll never know if I could have pushed on and made it succeed. This hurts. There were good aspects to each attempt, one in particular that I wish I could have figured out.<\/p>\n<p>I guess this is where I wished for more complexity from the radio. There\u2019s loss when you quit, even when quitting is right. And there\u2019s loss when you continue and don\u2019t write whatever else you might have. And there are gains on each side. We have to weigh one against the other. The only certainty I have is that there&#8217;s no disgrace in either decision.<\/p>\n<p>Now I\u2019m quitting. Time for prompts:<\/p>\n<p>\u2219&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Find a time gap in one of your stories, a day, a week, whatever. Invent a new scene that takes place during the gap. When you\u2019re finished, ask yourself if you\u2019ve you discovered anything new that will deepen the reader\u2019s understanding of what\u2019s going on.<\/p>\n<p>\u2219&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Write the dust-up between Eliot and Amy. Decide how he would pick a fight. What\u2019s he like when he argues? Show him at his worst.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; <\/p>\n<p>\u2219&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Now write Eliot\u2019s journal entry about his uncle\u2019s death and his behavior to Amy.<\/p>\n<p>\u2219&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Think of the fairytale \u201cThe Twelve Dancing Princesses,\u201d which we discussed at length in a long-ago post. If you don\u2019t remember the story, look it up. At the end, the soldier chooses the oldest princess for his bride. Let\u2019s imagine that she can accept him or quit being a princess. She\u2019s hardly met him and has hardly been kind to him. Write the scene in which she decides. Write the scene following her decision.<\/p>\n<p>\u2219&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Yes, Cinderella inexplicably continues to obey her stepsisters and stepmother in the original story, not my version, but they also continue to torment her, which cannot be good for their self-esteem. Write a version in which one of the stepsisters decides to do something different, to quit her role. What happens?<\/p>\n<p>\u2219&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Rewrite the tall tale of John Henry and have him quit pounding his hammer and live. What happens next?<\/p>\n<p>Have fun, and save what you write!<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Before I start, hope to see some of you this weekend in Rhode Island. If you haven\u2019t seen where I\u2019ll be, check the Appearances page of my website. Josiphine, whose first question I discussed last week, had a second: &#8230;any tips on rewriting would be extremely appreciated. In thinking about my response, I remembered a [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[158,26,159],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/gailcarsonlevine.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/149"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/gailcarsonlevine.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/gailcarsonlevine.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/gailcarsonlevine.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/gailcarsonlevine.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=149"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/gailcarsonlevine.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/149\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":427,"href":"https:\/\/gailcarsonlevine.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/149\/revisions\/427"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/gailcarsonlevine.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=149"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/gailcarsonlevine.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=149"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/gailcarsonlevine.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=149"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}