A process occurs while revising, a level of intimacy develops, whereby a story turns from acquaintance to lover. I’m not quite sure how it happens. Perhaps its the long hours spent in its company. Or the depth to which an author explores its caveats, nuances, and quirks. Or the heart and soul a writer pours onto the pages. Whatever it is, when it happens, it’s really sort of beautiful.
A couple weeks ago, I wrote a post about how much revising terrified me. I read Wishing on Willows and felt distant, like I didn’t really know my story. Imagine my chagrin when I realized that all the time I spent writing the rough draft amounted to nothing more than the casual, “Hi, how are you?”
My novel sat, waiting for me to make a move, and the thought of diving in, getting intimate, intimidated me. I went through all those common first date doubts. “What if I’m not good enough for him?” “What if I say something stupid?” “What if we don’t click?” “What if he’s not who I think he is?” Then you go on the date and feel 75% uneasy the entire time, unsure what to say or how to act. The second date is a little better. The third one a lot better. Until all of a sudden you’re as familiar with your story as Solomon was with his beloved.
As I spend time pouring over my words, my plot and my characters, I discover the core essence of what I want to say. I realize what brought me to write this novel in the first place. I learn what to accentuate, what to delete, what to add, what to twist and turn. Somewhere from the rough draft through the plethora of revisions, I understand what my story really is. And the fear I felt in the beginning turns to excitement. Thoughts of my story consume me. I’m committed and in love and desperate to give my lover all the attention it deserves, so the beauty I witness in private can be shared with the world.
Questions to Ponder: Do you feel you know your story after the first draft? Or do you need several go-throughs before you can claim intimacy with your work?