I Finally Wrote

I finally wrote for a bit yesterday. It didn’t really flow, but I got about 400 words in, better than I have done in a while. I’m writing on a novella that is going to tell a different sort of origin story.

How did it feel? It felt good; it felt productive. I am getting a feel for the characters, including InterSpaceNet. All the characters have been regulars in the Hidden in Plain Sight series, but we’re seeing more of Simon, the sysop for the collective. Simon’s hacker tendencies have been tapped with Luke’s goal of finding an answer to a pressing question. By the end of the story, Luke and Simon will know more than they’re comfortable with.

I’m largely pantsing this story (‘Pantsing’ = ‘flying by the seat of my pants’) — I just got the idea to insert the short story that spawned this into the body of the novella, and now I don’t know if the shape of the novella is correct. My gut tells me it’s correct enough. I can fine-tune it later.

I won’t write today because I need some rest this weekend. But maybe I’m moving forward.

Wrestling with my Problem Child, part 2

Through a series of edits and rewrites, the novel Gaia’s Hands (about 90,000 words) has been reduced to a tight novella with a feeling of impending doom — and impending resurrection.

I do not know where that novella came from, except that I think it was lurking at the edges of the novel I wrote, with the symbolism pointing in that direction, but my not having the guts to go there. I think there’s a tinge of my mood in the middle of Trump’s presidency and its unrestrained pro-business stance. My story has become in many ways dystopian, where fear and threats rule the day for those who are different.

The source material is almost five years old. I’ve been struggling with it for years — as my first novel, it probably lacked voice. After some serious, intense editing and a painful and beautiful ending, I don’t know if it has its own identity yet. But it’s a lot tighter, a lot more poignant, and I hope it’s a good story.

Wrestling with my Problem Child

I have always struggled with Gaia’s Hands as a story. If you’re having trouble keeping track, that was my first novel that emerged from a series of short stories which arose from a very strange dream that had nothing to do with the story. That’s the way dreams work — you dream of (*censored*) and all of a sudden you’re writing a book about environmentalism and plant diversity and love and sentient beanstalks.

Being my first novel, it has its flaws, and I couldn’t figure out how to fix them. Did it want to be a mystical story? A grounded story? I was trying for magical realism, but I ended up with a book at odds with itself. It had plenty of themes, but what was the plot, anyhow? Which plot was the plot? Did the plot need to be longer? Did I need to talk out the segments I added in? What could I fill in that actually assisted the plot?

Then yesterday, I heard that Tor/Forge (a major science fiction publisher), is looking for novellas to publish. A novella is between 7500 and 40,000 words according to Wikipedia and between 20,000 and 40,000 words according to Tor. It is, as the name implies, a short novel.

Given that I had just edited out all the parts of the novel that weren’t bare bones plot, the tug was clear — Make Gaia’s Hands into a novella. I’ve cut more out of the plot (there are a lot of subplots) and completely changed the ending — and now I have to add some more flow and description and cranking up of the plot (and get back to 20,000 words).

I don’t expect to get published. As I said, this manuscript is like the kid with the runny noise who you wish would quit crying. His own mum thinks he’s precious; everyone else wishes the kid would quit whining. Time for me to take care of the kid.

Love, Lauren