Into the Maze (Tai)

Into the Maze

By Tai

Despite the title, this is intended as an insight into some of my current thoughts on writing, brought about by my decision to re-write an entire already-accepted manuscript recently returned to me as a First Proof by my publishers.

Now, on the surface, I could simply make a few adjustments, take into account the very astute observations my (brilliant) editor made, and be done with it. BUT, looking at it and reading it through, I realized a few things.

First and foremost, I wrote Between Dusk and Dawn (at that time under the WT of Knight Takes King) back in 2016 AND in a since unequaled ten days. Seventy thousand words. Ten days. What I refer to as ‘stream of consciousness’ writing, which has its place, but only for the purposes of a first draft and, preferably, with a predetermined destination in mind.

Secondly, I’ve come a VERY long way since that time nearly four years ago and my work and style have changed dramatically. Not my ‘voice’, which remains the same, but in terms of what I know NOW as opposed to what I knew THEN.

My first response to my read-through was: “What the actual fuck was I thinking?” My second was: “I can do this better.”

Let me put this in context.

I have no illusions as to my capabilities as a writer. I’m not any kind of literary genius, don’t claim to be, don’t aspire to be, as such. I simply want to do the very best I can to give credit to the stories resonating in my head and the voices the Universe directs me to hear. I also, now, after having published two books, see publishing very differently than I did when I signed my first contract, also back in 2016.

Publishing is like any business. You don’t simply wake up one morning and find you’re JK Rowling with a bank balance exceeding that of the entire British Royal family. It doesn’t work that way. Hell, we all know that, for the most part, most of us will never see a plugged dime for our efforts and any coin at all is going to be a bonus.

However, that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t aspire to be the best we possibly can be and shoot for the stars.

When we establish a business, be it making candles or opening a restaurant or buying a delivery truck; we start small. For the first five years (Business 101), we anticipate operating at a loss because we are throwing every conceivable resource at building our business, and we don’t (or shouldn’t) anticipate a profit. However, we also want to do all we can to ensure the longevity and ultimate success of that business, even if that means taking it slow. Words of infinite wisdom: Slow is fast OR, conversely: Fast is, inevitably, slow. Translation; Going slow means you’re thinking things through and doing things right whereas going fast sets you up for mistakes which inevitably lead to the time it then requires to put things right in the aftermath.

Publishing (as I’ve discovered) is merely another form of business, and, in this instance, I’m speaking from the perspective of the writer BEING published, not the business of publishing itself, which is something else entirely. Business success requires any number of features such as branding, consistency, promotion, quality and so on and so forth. It stands to reason that, in the initial stages, a business will make mistakes and it takes time to gain traction and consistency. And writing is the same.

We should always be aiming to do better than we did before. We want to gain MORE readers, not less. So any subsequent offering to the public marketplace should GAIN us reputation, not cast doubt on our ability or growth.

For any author starting out on the journey of being published, in my experience at least, momentum and confidence are initially lost, not gained, after the momentary euphoria of the contract passes. 

Especially when it comes to any subsequent submissions!

‘What if it was a fluke?’

‘What if this just isn’t as good?’

‘What if I flopped and nobody wants me after this?’

Classic signs of Imposter’s Syndrome, and it can stifle our creativity and bring about what amounts to little less than panic. Again, MY experience.

My first novel didn’t undergo ANY editing, which I didn’t realize the implications of until I shifted publishers. It wasn’t that my work didn’t require the editing, it was that my publishers failed me. They were lazy, they were (as I only discovered afterward) classic ‘Vanity’ publishers, and they sold me absolutely short. Ho-hum. It is what it is.

My next submission, though accepted, was hammered in editing and I, having been misled by my first book, hackled up and took it hard. I apologize to my editor because she was so patient and so understanding and walked me through the entire process and I will be eternally grateful. My work seriously benefitted from her input but, in my mind, it was hardly what I considered any kind of best effort and was no more than yet another step in the learning process. I wanted to learn more and do better, not only for myself but for my publisher, my readers, the Universe I give credit to for my inspiration and the messages I wish to share. I ‘studied’. I am still studying.

I have no formal education in English. I did well at English in school, for a while, but never had opportunity to pursue my education beyond High School and my life took me into mainly manual-based employment afterward. (Tales for another time). I know what sounds right to me, but don’t ask me to tell you why or what the technical terms are. Passive voice? Active voice? First, second, third person? Not … a … fucking … clue! (Then).

I’m getting there.

Which brings me back to that re-write.

Why did I request permission to re-write? Because what I see now is bones, a framework of what is a good idea and a story worth telling but without the flesh and substance to enable it to live up to its potential. At the time, I was testing myself. Write 70k in ten days. That was it. The challenge. And I did.

But stories don’t have limits. You write till the story’s told, not till you reach a pre-determined word count. THAT was part of what I learned. My editor’s notes indicated she wanted more, and the more I looked at it, the more I realized, not only how right she was, but also how much more there was to tell. Not only for the sake of the characters I myself had grown to love, but because this is business. I want to lead my readers forward on a continually expanding journey, one that isn’t summed up in only one book, or one story, but in the premise that this is one story out of a Universe of stories. If I want to write the stories still begging to be told, I can’t do any of them justice if I’m half-hearted about any single one of them.

Writing, in my humble opinion, is like any other skill or craft. Very, very rare individuals wake up born writers. You study, you practice, you accept direction, constructive criticism, and instruction. You adjust and amend and apply what you learn to find the techniques to suit you best. It requires dedication, humility, perseverance, and bloody hard work! So you penned some lines (ok, you sat at your laptop or desktop and tapped some words onto the screen). Think you’re instantly qualified to run the writers’ Olympics with a publishing contract? Think… again. Because it doesn’t work that way. And you managed to get selected once? That’s not a pass card for every subsequent Olympics.

If you want to compete in the Olympics, if you want to succeed in business, you better believe you’re going to have to work at it and you also better believe you’re going to be up against challengers!

I’ve read some brilliant works over the past couple of years since Esther was released, followed by Smoke and Water. And I’ve read some seriously bad shit. What’s ironic is that those who write the good stuff are generally the most humble whereas the ones who write the worst are generally the most entitled. ‘I deserve to be published’. ‘Why do I keep getting turned down?’ ‘Why can’t these idiots see how hard I’ve worked and how good this is?’ Because you won’t take direction! You think you know it all already, and you don’t.

I want to do better. I want to do the best I can do. I want to do justice, not only to MY characters and story, but for the benefit of my publishers and my editor who have put themselves on the line for me.

And on that note, I’m going to pull apart and reconstruct a novel. For more reasons than just because.