Authenticity and Avoidance
First, whatever semblance of control, whatever illusion I once had of some small degree of peace and balance in my house, has been crushed. Demon Baby can now burp on command. Lord help us all. I am sure this is only the beginning of a new phase.
That aside . . . .
I have a work in progress that is on a second draft. I am workshopping it with my group . . . and overall, I am getting decent feedback on it. But I also know that in order to take it to the next level, I have to really dig deeper. In the case of this book, it means examining the motivations of everyone. A highly emotional book about the discovery of a dead baby's skeleton, every reaction I reexamine for authenticity. Every snippet of dialogue. Every glance between characters.
Which is not so different from real life. Almost unconciously we watch others--body language, nuance, the sound of someone's voice. I'm just doing it in the book now. Draft #2 is always when I do that.
The other part of my book that I am looking at is more difficult. I knew on the first go 'round that I avoided a key question. What was my main character's sexuality? Not was she bi or gay or straight, but how did she feel about sex? What kind of sex did she have? Was she open to her partner? And when she has sex in this book with the police detective . . . guess what? I have to take it BEYOND the bedroom door. And not in some romance way. Not in a touch this part. Do this, do that way. It has to be about the harder question of INTIMACY. It's not a romance. It's more women's fiction, I suppose. But in the end, so much of the book is about intimacy. The ways in which we hide parts of ourselves from others. Bury it, like the skeleton.
And let me tell you, I've been avoiding it. Until now here I am at draft #2, and I can't anymore. I've got to delve in. And frankly . . . I would rather avoid it.
I don't think it's that I avoid the questions in my own life. I think . . . and here's where I had to really focus . . . it's that I still am not 100% sure what Cate hides. And for a writer, that's simply not acceptable. So when an editor or agent or critique partner says dig deeper . . . it's this. It's easy to say Cate is lonely and weary, and very wounded. That she has taken up gardening as solace. That her mother emotionally abused her. That her ex-husband wants her back, and she loves him but knows that would be the wrong choice. Blah, blah blah. This is crap you could find out at a cocktail party. Really. In this confessional culture, people will tell you anything about themselves. Heck, they'll do it on TV. It's what we DON'T say. The secrets we don't even admit to ourselves.
There. That's it. That's what my avoidance on this book is. There's not one person, I don't think, who doesn't have something they won't admit even to themselves. And I have to figure out what Cate's is and then weave it in. And Cate is a difficult character. She's got secrets and I am just not 100% sure what they are. So I'd rather . . . oh, download tunes for my iPod. ANYTHING but deal with Cate and her secrets.
Anyone else avoid parts of their book that strike them as . . . too difficult, too honest . . . too raw . . . too close to home?
And thanks to the chatters last night! It was great fun and we'll do it again in a few weeks.
That aside . . . .
I have a work in progress that is on a second draft. I am workshopping it with my group . . . and overall, I am getting decent feedback on it. But I also know that in order to take it to the next level, I have to really dig deeper. In the case of this book, it means examining the motivations of everyone. A highly emotional book about the discovery of a dead baby's skeleton, every reaction I reexamine for authenticity. Every snippet of dialogue. Every glance between characters.
Which is not so different from real life. Almost unconciously we watch others--body language, nuance, the sound of someone's voice. I'm just doing it in the book now. Draft #2 is always when I do that.
The other part of my book that I am looking at is more difficult. I knew on the first go 'round that I avoided a key question. What was my main character's sexuality? Not was she bi or gay or straight, but how did she feel about sex? What kind of sex did she have? Was she open to her partner? And when she has sex in this book with the police detective . . . guess what? I have to take it BEYOND the bedroom door. And not in some romance way. Not in a touch this part. Do this, do that way. It has to be about the harder question of INTIMACY. It's not a romance. It's more women's fiction, I suppose. But in the end, so much of the book is about intimacy. The ways in which we hide parts of ourselves from others. Bury it, like the skeleton.
And let me tell you, I've been avoiding it. Until now here I am at draft #2, and I can't anymore. I've got to delve in. And frankly . . . I would rather avoid it.
I don't think it's that I avoid the questions in my own life. I think . . . and here's where I had to really focus . . . it's that I still am not 100% sure what Cate hides. And for a writer, that's simply not acceptable. So when an editor or agent or critique partner says dig deeper . . . it's this. It's easy to say Cate is lonely and weary, and very wounded. That she has taken up gardening as solace. That her mother emotionally abused her. That her ex-husband wants her back, and she loves him but knows that would be the wrong choice. Blah, blah blah. This is crap you could find out at a cocktail party. Really. In this confessional culture, people will tell you anything about themselves. Heck, they'll do it on TV. It's what we DON'T say. The secrets we don't even admit to ourselves.
There. That's it. That's what my avoidance on this book is. There's not one person, I don't think, who doesn't have something they won't admit even to themselves. And I have to figure out what Cate's is and then weave it in. And Cate is a difficult character. She's got secrets and I am just not 100% sure what they are. So I'd rather . . . oh, download tunes for my iPod. ANYTHING but deal with Cate and her secrets.
Anyone else avoid parts of their book that strike them as . . . too difficult, too honest . . . too raw . . . too close to home?
And thanks to the chatters last night! It was great fun and we'll do it again in a few weeks.
Labels: character synthesis
posted by Erica Orloff at 7:44 AM
19 Comments:
I'm sure you know this already, but after burping comes farting. Boys especially seem to love doing this.
My next book is about childhood cancer, and I avoided researching it all last week. I was wondering if I hate reading about it so much, how will I write the book? I finally found leukemia blogs last nights and was reading them until I went to bed.
Hi Edie:
Believe me, the farting is already an issue. He thinks they're hilarious. But he can't yet do it on command, so I have that going for me.
My avoidance is less subject matter on this one . . . as really 1) writing about sex in a different way, and 2) what the hell is Cate's sexuality/secret? It's just not gelled for me yet, and it SHOULD be gelled because this is draft 2. I have some ideas . . . but maybe I won't even know until I get in the bedroom scene.
E
Hey Erica, sorry I missed the chat last night. Not sure, but think the IM on this new laptop has a setting screwed up. I plan on getting it fine-tuned for the next chat. I was there in spirit, fiddling with the da...thing.
And yep, I've had a character that was hiding something from me. I remember writing a specific scene, and thinking, "There you are!" I knew from that moment, the deeper connection had been made.
I really love when they don't reveal themselves too soon, you know there's something there. It's the discovery I love. Good luck with that character, she sounds like it'll be totally worth it!
Hi Erica,
Thanks for your sweet comment on my blog. I'm leaving for a while but not forever.
I'll stop by every once in a while.
Hugs,
Tena
ladonna:
Oddly enough, I think she's my favorite character ever. Maybe it's because she's SO different from me.
E
Thanks, Tena. :-) Like I said, don't forget us little people when you hit the big time. :-)
E
Yes, yes, definitely!
Sexual healing/intimacy/vulnerability/trust has to be my number one favorite thing to write about. I could roll around in those topics for years. Maybe, instead of focusing on trying to figure out her secret, focus on her healing, go into the bedroom with her, and see how her vulnerability manifests itself. LOL ... you didn't ask for advice and of course you'll figure it out. I can't wait to read it!
Chat was a blast! Whew, am I tired.
On command farts? Please tell me that's not possible.
spy:
That's the thing. I don't know the manifestation yet. She's a tricky one.
:-)
But it boils down not to sex, but intimacy. Two totally different things, in my opinion.
E
Very true. But the only kind of sex I enjoy, or enjoy reading or writing about, is sex that is intimacy. I once had a character who wanted to strip off her clothes and get to it, was all gung-ho and happy and confident, but when he merely caressed her hand in such a way, she totally freaked out and ran away.
To me, sexual healing is putting the intimacy back into the sexual act. Intimacy can be a much bigger and terrifying thing than "just sex," because it almost demands you be vulnerable in some sort of way.
(Just thinking out loud, though. Sorry ... see ... I could go on about this topic ad nauseum! This is only one of the reasons I'm having second thoughts about penning a spy novel, LOL.)
YES! That is it, Spy.
Yes, yes, yes.
Thank you, My Genius Spy.
E
I'm the father of two boys, age 9 & 14. Burping on command (something their father has never been able to do) is a talent. Nurture those natural talents, Mom!
Now, here's something you might want to consider:
I spent much of the weekend at a Sanchin-Ryu retreat, which is the type of karate I and my family study. It sounds more mystical than it is, but one of the numerous things Chief Grand Master Dearman (the guy who developed the style) said that struck me was how in Sanchin-Ryu we try not to REACT, but to control events and to ACT.
Then he applied it to the rest of our lives this way. If someone, for instance, says, "You're ugly" and you get upset by this, the question to ask isn't, "Why do they think I'm ugly." The question to ask is, "Why does it bother me?"
Ugly, of course, is just an example, but I thought it applied well to everything. If someone gives you some oblique criticism about something and you freak on it, why?
How does that apply to your book and your characters?
Crap, Mark. You're making me think too hard. LOL!
But now, this I must. Cate has been brutally put down by her feminist mother her whole life, a woman who did not believe in men and women having sex at all--at the very farthest end of the feminist perspective. And Cate has no idea how to shut off those tapes. Her mother is like this dark shadow over the entire book.
So . . . I now need to think about Cate being controlled by that.
Thanks . . . too, for the insight--the real life insight.
E
Send him my way and I'll teach him to burp the alphabet.
travis:
Generous offer. Thanks so much (she says with lack of enthusiasm). ;-)
E
Sorry to say that the male half of our species does not have a lock on the burping and farting skills.
My dear little daughters think it the height of hilarity to far in the bathtub... and burping is contest of volume between them. I discourage this even when my wife isn't around... but girls will be girls.
The places you don't want to go to find where you (or your character) are hiding things from yourself/themself are the places I have been studying and exploring for the last few years. While not exactly a vacation spot, it is definitely interesting territory.
Most of the things we hide from ourselves are themselves a story we made up about something that happened, or at least made more dramatic than it actually was, and have been making ourselves wrong for and about ever since.
If we give ourself space to just be with the issue, not making it right or making excuses for it, but just being with it - there is a space where it ceases to be a make-wrong and just is. That space is where we have the opportunity to let it go and forgive ourselves and others.
Erica, maybe that is the space you need to explore with your character?
Hi Ewoh:
I think Cate is so wounded . . . and I am NOT so wounded. I have shared that I am a "Method" writer--I really AM the characters, they inhabit me for a bit when I am writing them. And so it's trying to figure out who Cate is behind that bedroom door. How is this wounded person--who definitely has a "story" of things being "wrong"--behave?
More food for thought. Thanks!
E
Yep. I'm there right now, and I'm there in two different book edits. I haven't actively worked since last Thursday. (Gonna try to buckle down here in a few minutes after I catch up on my blogs) And part of it is my sleep schedule is all out of whack, but I can't blame it all on that. So much of it is me, and my fear I think of not being authentic. And on the other end of the scale is the fear of being too authentic...because while I'm not my characters my brain is the only brain I've got to work with and so how I see the world infects the book and writing is something just so raw and I'm never sure I want to be that exposed. I've been self sabotaging a lot lately. Not working nearly as much as I should because I feel like I really am close to something publishable and I'm afraid of what that means for me if it happens.
zoe:
When I sold my first book (SPANISH DISCO) I literally didn't sleep for two days--up ALL night toosing and turning. Not with excitement. But what it meant. What if I NEVER write another book? What if I was a one-book wonder? What if everything I tried afterwards sucked?
E
Yeah Erica, I think about those things too. I haven't even crossed that "first publication" bridge yet, but when I do I don't want to be a one book wonder.
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