Gifts are winging their way to Alice, Patti, and Mary Robinette.  Should arrive on Friday, maybe Saturday for left-coast people.

Here’s a small glimpse into the revision process, as demonstrated by a specific problem in a story.

The original passage had a young schoolteacher looking at a bruise on a boy’s face and deciding to befriend him because she felt sorry for him.  Now I learn that most teachers are mandatory reporters… which would mess up the real story here, so I can’t have that. (Although writers should do research, it’s impossible to cover every angle.  I’ve never taught school, so I didn’t know this fact.  This is why I show my earlier drafts to readers, so they can help me catch things like this.)

Solution in this case is pretty easy: I need some other physical observation which will increase her sympathy toward the boy, yet not be anything she can help him with.

I consider sickness, and a “faraway daydreaming look” that she’d relate to, but neither is strong.  Finally I come up with poverty, which can be demonstrated with old, beat-up clothing.  Shoes are the obvious choice since I’ve already spent a lot of time detailing the way he’s kicking the dirt under the swings.  Plus, shoes definitely show a lot of wear and tear and are harder to replace at thrift stores and the like.  So now she sees the soles falling off the boy’s shoes and his toes stretching the end like they want to escape, and this sparks the reaction I want her to have.

This is what a small part of the revision process looks like: isolate a problem passage, identify how’s it failing, decide what the passage needs to accomplish, and fix it.

End of week 6. 4 stories complete, of the 8 I planned to finish. The primary reason I haven’t drafted more stories is that I’ve been busy revising those first few–which I’m doing because of some upcoming deadlines. I find myself cranky about not being able to focus on finishing 8 new stories as I planned, but that can’t be helped–unless I skip the deadlines, which are for various critique groups. (No actual anthology deadlines or anything, but these deadlines are firm and can’t be moved.)

Plus, I’m visiting the allergist for the first time in 15 years, and getting tests done. This is a good thing, but it’s draining my energy and health. Long-term, I’m sure I’ll feel better. Short-term, it’s been tough. My back is a mess of red welts and itchy patches that won’t go away. It’s survivable but crappy.

My mood is good and my spirits high, however. So I ask you, O readers: What would you like to see me do for the remaining two weeks? I believe any of the following are doable.

a) Complete two new stories, come hell or high water. I could do this, but it would require possibly dropping the ball on two stories I have due Sep 27 and Oct 1. (Neither deadline is critical, but I hate missing them.)

b) Focus on revisions this week, complete a story next week. Easy to do, but it feels a bit like abandoning the “8 stories in 8 weeks” plan.

c) Focus on revisions both weeks. Same problem as above, although it would help me circulate new work faster, which makes me happy.

d) Revisions this week, complete a story this week, extend my “deadline” and complete a story in Week 9 as well. Would let me compromise the upcoming revision needs with my original goals, but might feel like I’m pushing myself too hard or setting myself up for failure.

e) Not worry about it and do whatever I feel like. Could be relaxing and fun, could be super-productive, could be miserable and make me feel like a quitter. Hard to say right now.

f) Some other option I’m not thinking of.

Now accepting suggestions!

If YouTube comments met real life situations.

NSFW unless you have headphones. My favorite part is the actual YouTube comment thread on this video. Totally meta.

(Thanks, Shannon!)

Know what makes me slightly stabby? When I want to accomplish something in a story that requires a different medium to be effective. Examples:

She paused. “[dialogue…]”

Usually I intend a pause that adds meaning, like you’d hear if it were a radio play. Important silence. On paper, it just looks clumsy.

I stared at him.

This is me trying to write a movie. An actor would convey the necessary meaning through facial expression. In fiction writing, this sentence is semi-useless.

Of course, I’m sure scriptwriters envy my freedom to dip into multiple people’s heads and just TELL the reader what the character is thinking if I want to.

Fourth story finished, Tuesday of Week 6.  I’m having trouble keeping track of what the heck week it is.

There’s probably a coding corollary for this.  90% of my effort is spent on 10%
of the sentences.  And every once in a while there’s a total bugbear of a
sentence that follows me to the grocery store and haunts my shopping
experience.

When I was ten years old, I had a Superball collection, about thirty different ones which I kept in a plastic bucket. (I think they were called hi-bounce balls or rubber bouncers in other parts of the country.) They ranged in size from tiny marble-sized ones to giant tennis-ball types. I had all colors of the rainbow–yellow, pink, blue, swirly rainbow and everything.

Our upstairs bathroom had a tile floor and mostly-tile walls. The sink and
toilet and counter were some plain white material (I don’t know exactly what).
There was a bathtub, but no showerhead or shower attached. My mom, being a
practical person, didn’t have any decoration beyond the painted flowers
on the upper wall and a pair of blue bathmats.

I had a favorite game I liked to play in the bathtub. I had to wait until my
parents were elsewhere in the house, or weren’t home. First, I closed the toilet lid and the medicine cabinet if it was open. Then I’d run a nice hot bath. I’d get my Superball collection out of my room, and I’d get in the tub.

FLING! One by one, I’d throw them against the wall. Superballs scatter everywhere!

Now, a Superball in motion, in a tiny tile-covered room, tends to stay in motion. The goal was to get all 30 balls bouncing at the same time. This was much harder than it sounded, because my enemies were the bathmats and the towels and the corner behind the toilet. But it was so much fun. And if you can imagine 30 rainbow blurs, winging everywhere around this room–floor, wall, ceiling, and sometimes against my head–it’s quite a sight to see.

It looked a little like this, except less planned and much more dangerous.

In retrospect, I’m lucky I didn’t break anything or hurt myself.

Still writing.  Have about 75% of my fourth story, at the end of week 5.

But–I did heavy revision work on three different stories.  So I am exceptionally pleased with my accomplishments for the week.  Now I just have to finish up this one story–or at least throw a crappy placeholder ending onto it so I can move on.

But yay.  A great week.

I completed a third story late on Tuesday.  Ran a ton of errands yesterday (seven hours!), and today I’m starting a fourth story.  Probably can’t finish within the week, but I can get a running start on next one, and possibly leave myself room for another.