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Motion sickness
When I was a child, playgrounds were not as safe as they are today, especially playgrounds in small towns. My grandmother and grandfather lived in small-town Alberta. A town named Breton in case you’re curious. Wanting to be weekend farmers and spend more time with extended family, my parents bought a small farm near this town. As a result, I had many opportunities to hang out in that small-town playground.
The things people thought were okay for kids! It blows my mind when I remember it now. Thick rusty chains with steel handlebars fastened to a spindle at the top of a pole. All it took was one person to send one chain in motion and the whole apparatus came alive. Iron handlebars and brutal chains flinging through the air with or without a child holding on. Such a playground apparatus could take out a child’s teeth.
The merry-go-round presented lesser risks, but it was its own hazard. Such a rusty creaky thing, there seemed no limit to how fast it might turn. If I was playing with a boy, which I did often because that’s who was around, the merry-go-round might spin at a dizzying speed. I have always been extra sensitive to motion. The only way I could endure the merry-go-round was to hold on dearly and keep my eyes on my belly, and never ever for any reason look at the blur beyond. More times than not, I threw up anyways.
What does this have to do with fiction writing?
If I were to chart the phases of getting my book published, phase one would be stupid optimism, otherwise known as blissful ignorance. At the beginning, I actually believed I’d only need to work on Sundays to complete revisions. By my estimate, the manuscript needed a good copy edit. Then, I got my substantive feedback.
Talk about spinning. The timeline to publication was tight. I only had five months when I realized how much I would need to revise. One story had to be rewritten entirely. Others would have to be significantly restructured. Several were not working and I did not know why. All of them needed revision.
How did I respond? Well, I spun wildly to the point of nausea and refused to look beyond my crouched self clinging to the safety bar. I kept that merry-go-round turning at every possible waking moment. Yep, I made myself sick to the stomach.
I’d just started a new full-time job as an editor at Thompson Rivers University, but whatever time was not taken up with that, I put towards my book. I’d creep out of the bedroom an hour before my husband opened his eyes, I’d eat at the computer, and type like a crazed fool in my pyjamas. While I certainly generated a lot of drafts, and perhaps the momentum in the first story of my collection gained a peculiar energy, I did little more than make myself nauseous.
Slow down
I experienced an intense growth spurt as a writer while revising “Your Body Was Made for This.” In the process, I learned a few important things about making fiction. The most important thing of all was to SLOW DOWN. I’d always written my way through every problem. Believing in the freefall method originated by W. O. Mitchell, I’d rely on speed without editing or interruption to yield insight. It’s a great method for giving birth to stories, but when it comes to revising… I am not so sure… at least for me.
The unexpected virtue of mauve foolscap
After three weeks of no-progress, I took a trip to the stationery store. The only thing I love more than stationery is books. To my delight, I discovered that they make mauve-coloured foolscap now! Yes, it is properly lined with a cardboard back and tear-off sheets that come away without too much mess.
I associate that foolscap now with happiness and insight. Recently, I went out and bought a ton of the stuff just in case they decide to not carry it anymore. The warm purple stands out on a desk. My messy handwriting gives me a unique degree of boldness. Would I have ever discovered this if I weren’t in a panic and desperate for relief? Who knows.
But what’s it about? Seriously
It did me a world of good to step away from the computer. A person can think better when they are not nauseous, so there’s that. Plus, a wider view is useful. I mean, you can see so much more. Slowly, I made my way into phase two: use your blessed head.
I sat myself down on a comfy chair in the living room. As my mug of tea grew cold, I kept several notepads within reach and I began puzzling it out. Something about handwriting and a fresh tool seemed to give me permission to go to the difficult places.
I began by asking myself what precisely each story was about. That was good for several pages of a notepad. I arrived at a strong answer only by listing a lot of options and narrowing them down. But once I’d managed that, I had the focus through which the story could unfold and I started thinking of strategies.
Here’s a bit of wisdom, not only for writing (you may have already figured this out, and if so, I am happy for you)—sometimes the fastest way forward is to slow down.
In upcoming blogs, I’ll share more about what I learned revising “Your Body Was Made for This.” The book will be published this fall by Ronsdale Press, and is available now for pre-order online and in bookstores. In the meantime, why not step off your own particular merry-go-round for a few minutes. Let me know how that goes.
Debbie Bateman 