We Have Ways of Making You Talk

“Secret Workings” goes through revision

As I sat with mauve foolscap, puzzling out the first story in my collection, I returned to the title. Oh my, oh goodness, that’s it, I thought. The story is about secrets. Sounds simple enough, doesn’t it? Except secrets are secrets precisely because they are not easily known.

The most essential secrets to the story were those Pauline, the main character, kept from herself. And how exactly, you might ask, can a writer bring such secrets into the open without betraying the nature of the very character who is hiding them? If a character stuffs their difficult feelings, how can a writer expose those feelings… and do it in a way that can be re-experienced by readers? You, betcha. It’s a problem.

I make a fevered discovery

It was definitely one of the harder things I have done, to sit that night in the comfy chair, thinking about this. A solution did not arrive until 2:00 a.m. When you have a formidable problem, try sleeping. Occasionally, if the problem doesn’t keep you awake, a bit of sleep might deliver an answer. (Or not, I’m no expert.)

“Write it in second-person,” a voice in my head demanded. Obediently, head on the pillow, snug and warm under our down comforter, I started recasting the sentences and it seemed to be working. Needless to say, I could not remain in bed. I knew I wasn’t going to get back to sleep, so why not? I got to work and by mid-morning I had rewritten the story.

In the process, something exciting happened—Pauline gained agency. Was that her deepest darkest secret? Maybe. By allowing her to look at herself as if at someone else, a potent energy came into her voice, an irreverent attitude prickly with wicked bits of humour. Yep, I liked what was happening. The change in point-of-view seemed helpful, but I wasn’t sure.

Asking for help

I decided to let it go for now and move on to the other stories in need of my attention. I planned to come back to the story last thing. In the meantime, I sent “Secret Workings” to Carve magazine and Craft magazine, both of whom offer critique services for a fee. You see, here is the thing: I needed the opinions of people who were uninvolved in the book. I wanted to replicate the experience of a new reader, but I needed that new reader to have deep knowledge of writing. With the critique services of these two excellent literary magazines, that is precisely what I got.

With so little time for revising the whole book, it was uncertain whether I would hear back from the magazines in time. I was so pleased when I got their critiques with a few weeks to spare. Both magazines noted strengths and areas of opportunity in my story. Carve magazine, however, gently suggested that perhaps the second-person point-of-view was doing more harm than good.

It ain’t over until …

Carve magazine suggested third-person might work better. They pointed out that my use of second-person was wobbly. It’s a thing that can happen. Is the “you” a different part of the protagonist? Or, is the “you” a different person altogether? If the “you” can even possibly be taken as a different person altogether, it is likely to be experienced by a reader as the writer talking directly to them. This does not always go well. Imagine a sharp finger jabbing your chest, a domineering type telling you what to think or feel, the experience of being accused of something. You get the picture.

I rewrote the story yet again, this time in third-person. I also had to rewrite the last story in the collection because they are in the same voice, but that’s another matter. Accommodations had to be made and yet nothing important was lost and the possibility of confusion was avoided. Best of all, the agency remained. In fact, it was stronger in third-person, more accountable and credible. Happy days.

So, the next time I struggle to bring a story to life, and rest assured there will be a next time, I will experiment more and sooner. When all is said and done, I know only one thing for certain—I could never have found Pauline’s true voice without the second-person shenanigans.

Who wrote that?

Finally, I want to say that now when I read that story, entire paragraphs feel like they came from someone else. I read them and ask myself, “Where did that come from?”

It’s an experience many creative people have, that sense of their work passing through them, not out of them. I’ll explore that more in later blogs. Until then, keep reading whatever it is you’re reading. Thanks for listening.

“Your Body Was Made for This” will be published in October 2023. (Available in print and ebook.)