I had a problem with one of my kitchen cabinets for over a week.
The problem was that when I opened the door to the cabinet, Pyrex dishes and Tupperware flung themselves at me. “$%#$#$!!!” I’d say, but would end up stuffing the glassware and plastic back in there with one hand while pulling out whatever it was that I needed.
The next day was a repeat. I’d open the cabinet and, “^#%$R#$#!!!!” once again.
Yes, I had a whole week of getting assaulted by my own cookware. Each day I’d have to stop what I was doing to work around this problem.
Finally I actually got a clue, opened both doors to the cabinet, sat on the floor, and looked at the problem critically. Oh. Two round pitchers on the bottom of everything. Yes, that’ll do it. Round things aren’t good to put a collection of 9 x 13 inch glass casserole dishes and stacks of Tupperware on. Once I took out the pitchers, my problem was over.
I have this scene in my next Myrtle Clover book that was the same way. Every time I read over the scene in my revisions, I’d frown at it. Something wasn’t right. But I never really stopped to find out what the problem was—I just skipped right over it and kept on reading. Whatever it was wasn’t too egregious, but it just wasn’t right.
Then I looked at it critically. I’d obviously liked the scene when I put it in. But now:
*It seemed awkward
*The actions of the protagonist seemed out of character.
*And—the kicker—it didn’t further the plot that much. I’d already accomplished the point I was trying to make in an earlier scene. It seemed like I was belaboring the point.
Thanks to the magic of computers, I cut out the scene and pasted it on a blank document, in case I wanted it back. Then I read over those pages again, this time without the scene.
Much better.
I think sometimes it could possibly mean the scene isn’t in the right location—too early in the story or too late in the story. Or maybe you’ve written in some scenes in the revision process that made the old scene unnecessary and redundant.
Either way, when something is popping out at me, I’m going to pay attention for a few minutes to correct it.
Lovely thought that. It is often those two round bottomed dishes that are at the bottom of all the trouble.
Lovely analogy.
I think there’s another aspect to not dealing with these things that pop into our face (and sometimes literally!). They clutter up our energy field, and thus prevent us from going with our creative, and productive, flow. We often feel that we can’t take the time to deal with the messy cabinet or the cluttered desk. But sometimes, taking a few minutes to clean up a physical space can free up energy blockages on a mental level, making it well worth the time invested in doing so.
I am all about not facing what we need to face. It’s often easier to shove it back when it’s trying to explode in our faces.
But a few minutes of cleaning up our chaos and we always feel better.
I guess my point is ignoring chaos in life or in writing never works long term for us.
Elizabeth – I’m with the rest of the group – that’s a wonderful analogy! I, too, have written scenes and had to go back later because they didn’t fit or there was something else wrong with them. When I do that, I reread the chapter from the beginning, since scenes are often so contextual. Then, I use my “electronic scalpel” to take out the scene that doesn’t work and fix it or move it or whatever needs to be done. Thanks for reminding us that a good final product – like a neat cupboard – is worth moving things around.
Roxanne St Claire gives a workshop on resurrecting a scene that’s gone flat line. It’s tough to be critical since you obviously had An Important Reason to put the scene in there, but it might not have been the right reason for the book.
When she went back and looked, the writing was stellar. But nothing really happened. She’d researched a fancy hotel in France and it was one of those, “I’ll show the reader how much I know about this” scenes.
Having just had my editor trim about 10,000 words from my current manuscript, I can understand. In addition to those cuts, we also totally changed the ending — to one I’d written in an early draft. I save everything!
Once again a good analogy. I’ve had scenes like that – just feel awkward. Sometimes, yes, you just have to really take the time to analyze what’s wrong and take the time to fix it. As an editor I see this all the time – which is another point, often another set of eyes will spot awkwardness and point it out to you.
The Old Silly
I’ve started making some big revisions to a manuscript and found the same thing–that sometimes just removing a scene or a paragraph makes it better. I’m so thankful for computers, where it’s easy to take away and add again if needed!
Great analogy!
BTW, I always just stuff everything back onto the shelf and leave as a booby-trap for my husband LOL!
Who knew wisdom could be found in the cupboard? I am still learning the fine art of letting go when it comes to scenes that I love but don’t quite fit into the text of the story. Glad you were able to sort out your own story (and get that cabinet organized!)
Jen
I have several cabinets like that!It’s funny how long I’ll put up with something when just a few minutes would have taken care of the problem.
I’m usually better with my revisions. If something doesn’t read quite right, I stop and do something about it rather than ignore it in the hopes it fixes itself.
I hate it when things just don’t fit, in real life or fiction. I have a cabinet that is quickly turning into a #$%^& mess too!
I admit freely that I’m far better at editing my writing than I am at editing my kitchen cupboards! Where do all those containers come from? And why do we keep fifteen when we only use four?
Elspeth
Natasha–You’re so right!
Marvin–True. Fresh sets of eyes can really help.
Diane–Which is exactly what my husband calls it! :)
Ingrid–You are absolutely right, and what an elegant way of putting it. It’s so much healthier and more productive to get rid of the physical and mental clutter.
Journaling Woman–In the long run, it just makes more work for us to ignore it.
Margot–You’re right! I often jump around when I’m revising and it’s not clear if something is in the right or wrong place. Reading it from the beginning of the chapter (or reading a couple of previous chapters) really does help.
Jane–I guess in the kitchen we’re hoping someone else will step in and organizing it? Not like THAT’S going to happen! :) You’re right…in the ms, we are definitely the ones who need to address the problem.
Terry–Cutting a scene that shows off our researching is tough!
That sounds like an awesome workshop!
Well everyone has said exactly what I am going to: GREAT ANALOGY!
Although my situation does not involve a book, the contents of my cupboards, the ones where all those various-sized containers are kept, have been falling out at me for weeks. I guess it’s time to do something about that… LOL —
–well sort of. Yuk. I’m not looking forward to THAT chore! Journaling Woman has a point though. I KNOW I’ll feel better once I finally just DO IT!!
Sounds like the Flintstone’s closet. Frd opens the door to look for his bowling ball and a mountain of stuff avalanches over him. Great analogy.
I have a junkyard of “parts” that I cut and paste from a manuscript if they don’t fit. I can always rummage through my “junk” later if I need a particular part for a particular chapter and maybe re-use that part again.
Stephen Tremp
I love your metaphors! (and it reassures me somewhat that someone who seems so competent has domestic obstacles like everyone else.)
I’m really curious how long your ‘scenes’ are. I love how you talk about evaluating scene by scene, but when I try, it doesn’t seem to work… I think I am defining my scenes in too large of chunks…
It’s a time issue, isn’t it? It takes time to stop and figure things out and we’re always running at warp speed to fit everything in and get things done. This is such a wonderful example of the good that can come from stopping a moment and pondering.
Karen
I do that sometimes. I read something I’ve written and have a not-so-good feeling about it, but can’t put my finger on what is wrong. The tendency is to skip on and keep reading, thinking you’ll come back to it. It’s better to work on it. If I skip it, I’m likely to forget it.
Helen
Straight From Hel
Crystal–And I got such a sense of accomplishment from fixing that one thing. On the ms, too. And it made life SO much easier.
Kristen–I totally remember using correction tape and carbon copies and am SO glad those days are over! Hooray for computers!
Jen–The scene is *definitely* fixed. The cabinet? Well, it’s probably more of a temporary fix! But at least things aren’t jumping out at me anymore.
Stephen–I’d forgotten that! The Flintstones DID have a closet that made avalanches. I’m turning into Wilma Flintstone! ACK.
Hart–Oh, good one. That would be interesting to do a whole post on…where one starts, stops, the purpose of them, etc. Mine are usually pretty set–something new is introduced. Someone has walked onstage, or offstage. A noted time or day change (it’s now supper or bedtime, or time to go to work.) A longish piece of dialogue has wrapped up, or the setting has changed from one location to another. I see mine as completely represented by a change in my story, but maybe others see it differently? Mine are fairly short, but then I have 75,000 words for my sleuth to interview 5 different suspects…by themselves and without an audience. I’d be interested to know what others think about scene lengths.
Janel–We need some spring cleaning! On our manuscripts, too.
Elspeth–That’s what I don’t know! Because there is absolutely no point in keeping those containers–we never have THAT many leftovers!
Helen–Exactly. You can’t immediately tell what’s wrong. And usually are in the middle of doing something else when you notice it. Hard to pin down sometimes.
Elspeth, I’m offering you my husband. He will get rid of those containers faster that you can say ‘where can I put my leftovers’? Drives me NUTS that he wants to go BUY containers just so they stack nicely. (can you tell I’m the cheap one and he’s the neat one)
Elizabeth, it sounds like you and I are defining similarly–it just seems cumbersome to think of 4 or 5 pages all as ONE thing… possibly because I only have my chaotic house to edit in.
So, now that I’ve given away my husband, I should probably offer up my kids. Then my problem will be solved!
Hart–My scenes are closer to 1 or 2 pages, usually. Or even 1/2 a page. Now that I think of it, it seems a little choppy. Hmm…
Ug, You’ve reminded me of my cluttered pantry, but it’s boxes of crackers and bags of sugar and the like falling out.
We write and write and then we edit and cut. As Tennessee Williams said, you gotta Kill Your Darlings.
Karen–I thought of you. There was definitely a bigger issue there–I’m in such a rush that sometimes things that can be easily addressed and NEED to be addressed, aren’t. I love your idea of paying more attention to our spirit and general well-being, which is so often lost in the chaotic rush.
Elizabeth–Well, I do have a pantry that does that sometimes, too! It’s the cans. I can’t seem to stack them properly and they gang up on me later and hurl themselves at me….
Tennessee was a genius, wasn’t he?