I'm learning, the hard way, what it's like to draft a first novel. What is crystal clear in my head does not always translate so onto the page. I contradict myself. Choose inappropriate words. Add too much or not enough detail, use unnecessary descriptions; construct whole paragraphs worthy of leaving out. I give equal weight to the unimportant events as I do the key ones. My sentence structure needs work, as does the ordering of my narrative. In short, I have a lot of work to do, and still, I need time and space to create new material, to unravel the spools of thought from my mind begging for attention to create some yet unimaginable final shape. The first draft is the 'easy' part. Rewriting is writing.
I'm taking the course through Humber to learn, receive guidance, and get the push I need to move the memoir-writing process along. As a beginner, I'm working with a professional whose literary insights and credentials go far above and beyond my own. I take every piece of criticism he says seriously, literally. I write, and fail. Then I write some more, and rewrite, and fail more miserably. I am going to fail through this process many, many more times. Writers must develop a thick skin should they wish to become writers - or so I hear.
Luckily for me, I thrive off of constructive feedback. I am highly coach-able, which is not the same thing as always being able to do what I'm told - but I try my best. Learning to write, and learning to write BETTER may be one of the most difficult tasks I've ever set ahead of myself, but I'm up for the challenge!
There's no sense denying that I'm enjoying the process - I am, surely I am. For me, there's always joy in a new project, in the beginnings of a new hobby or passion - the hard part is the enduring, and the finishing. Seeing the novel through to its completion - that's where I need all of my friends and family to hold me accountable. Pressure me. Ask me how it's going, because I'd be ashamed to say, "it's not." There's a reason I have to write and finish this book. I'm writing it for my daughter, but I'm also writing it for all of her friends, and for the unborn whose voices will never be heard. I'm writing because my desire to create change propels me forward, and I have experienced the transformative power of the written word through storytelling. I've read books that have changed me. I've been profoundly impacted by the simplest words that have come about at the right time. I'll give you one example:
"How you choose to frame the message that your child will be born with Down syndrome is how those around you will react."
Those were some of the first empowering words we ever heard from the social worker in the hospital when we received Elyse's diagnosis. I was worried about how to tell people. Her words made all the difference to me. We chose to spread the news of Elyse with love and positivity, and that is what we are now surrounded with in our life and hers. I would accept nothing less. With those words, the social worker sowed a seed of hope that has continued to grow and blossom inside of me, and I believe if I continue to frame the message positively, that is how those around me will continue to react, and the resounding effect will be contagious.
Once I learn how to reign in my emotion and passion on the subject, and translate that energy into a coherent story-line (sounds easy enough?!), we'll have a real memoir in the works.
Through the pains of failure and rejection, one day, at the end of all of this, I will have a finished manuscript in my hand. Hold me to it.
Thanks for reading!
MG's corrections are below in pink. You may notice they take up about half the page of what I have written.
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