Revision Transmission Four
Into the void/connecting the interlocking pieces
Five days ago I hit my head on a metal beam while ascending the stairs leading to my apartment. The beam had been left there, negligently, by the painters painting the building. It was the second time I’d hit my head on a metal beam in less than a month— the first time they promised: no more beams left around after work hours. Yet there was the beam, invisible above my head until I slammed into it, dropping my groceries so I could sit on the step and wait for the dizziness to pass.
Things happen like this. Suddenly. Suddenly I am conversing with a lawyer and getting checked out by a doctor, wondering how I will manage to move my things on Sunday, if I am going to be tired forever; if my brain is okay.
Suddenly I am meeting with my editor and agent, discussing the next draft of my book— what needs to be cut and what needs to be rearranged. How to rearrange the structure. The publication date (spring 2025). Suddenly the book is real and going to be real. Suddenly we’re talking about pictures I may want to include, the legal read; copy; covers; marketing. Blurbs.
Holy shit. My book’s gonna be published? And this is (close to) my last revision? And I might have a concussion? And I might need to get a lawyer? And I’m moving (again)? And I have two papers to write and a piece to write for an online publication? And I’m going to New Orleans for the first time next week, to petsit? And my cat is staying with a stranger? And sleep? And exercise? And newsletters? And grade papers and have conferences with my students?
Whew.
Sometimes I have to deconstruct things and package them into manageable parcels, just so I can carry everything. Tomorrow I work on the piece I have due for Slate. Tomorrow I finish grading papers. Tomorrow I teach. Tomorrow I pack more of my things into boxes. Wednesday I begin outlining my book. Wednesday I finish the draft for Slate. Wednesday I wrap up packing to move things on Thursday. Thursday I have student conferences. Thursday I move my boxes to a friend’s house for storage. Thursday I get my oil changed and return some items. Thursday I continue outlining my book.
On Wednesday of next week I’ll be in New Orleans, where I’m pet sitting a cutie dog at a house with a pool. I’ve never been there before. I’m excited for the city, but more than that I’m excited for a reprieve from teaching and school work and being away from Tallahassee, away from Florida. The latter’s climate (both political and temperature) is stifling.
If I think too far ahead, to when I begin teaching and classes again, I’m overwhelmed. So I won’t think that far ahead.
Something I’m grateful for: more time for revising. I have, tentatively, until the end of October. Longer if I need it. And I’m going to take advantage of that time; I’m going to work slowly and methodically moving my puzzle pieces.
Right now I can see the entire shape of my book, which means I can see the parts of the book that are ready to fall out. What I don’t need. What needs to be discarded. Some of those parts are my favorite parts, but they may belong somewhere else, in some other book.
I imagine it like this: I remove those pieces, but their energy remains. The reader can feel the energy of what was once there; a little fire that smolders between what comes before and after. That’s what I think. I hope. Writing is magical like that sometimes— full of energy. If we know our writing well enough we can feel where the energy rises and where is drops off.
I hope your week is starting out much better than mine— though my week is going pretty well if I extract the possible concussion. I’m grateful to have met with my editor and agent and grateful to have a sense of where my revision is going.
I am hoping to share revision progress each week!
Wow, not good! Take good care of that noggin - we need it to be in good shape! Wonderful news about your revisions, though. I know it's been a long process. And Spring 2025 will be here very soon. I enjoyed the revision process for my first book, though it's a University Press book, so revisions are a bit more in the author's control.
I hope the travels and moves go well. Hanging out with a dog and a pool sounds like a nice break from your hectic schedule. I did not get to send your pictures, as I had an unexpected deadline. So, just let me know when you are in your new place and I'll get them to you quickly. Maybe just in time for your Birthday!
I do miss Inspiration Station, but entirely understand your time constraints.
I'm working on the books - if I do this right, it will be plural, as my agent and I are looking to do a 2 or even 3 book deal. It's in his hands right now, but that doesn't slow me down from working on them.
I hope you have a few peaceful days ahead.
My week is going fine but much better for seeing this:
“The reader can feel the energy of what was once there; a little fire that smolders between what comes before and after. That’s what I think. I hope. Writing is magical like that sometimes— full of energy. If we know our writing well enough we can feel where the energy rises and where is drops off.”
THIS is why drafting and redrafting and refining matters. Nothing is lost, even if it sometimes feels like writing = hitting one’s head against a beam (repetitively). Seriously though--I hope you are okay. I’m sure you must be to give us such a powerful insight.