"Sometimes you just need an incinerator, baby."

{this post title is something Jim said to me over breakfast, in reference to the crime novel he is reading just now. In the way of bloggers, I thought, "That would make a good blog title." So here it is, and fyi, it has nothing at all to do with the post.}
I got my "Emily" books the other day at Powell's. (Sigh, Powell's, how I love you.) There was a school field trip there and the whole kid's section was aswarm with kidlets. I wanted to put my book into all their hands and lead them to the cash register like a row of ducklings, but of course I did not. Aside from the Emily books, I took a detour to the folklore section, where I had not been in a little while, and added to my library of books on weird beliefs -- witchcraft, demons, superstitions, fortune-telling, faeries, that sort of thing. And now, as you see above: gargoyles, bird omens, animal spirits, plant symbolism and "the toad."

A whole book on toad lore! I've only read a few pages, but so far I have learned quite a few uses for toad venom (making zombies, for example), and a recipe for hair dye that consists of crushed tadpoles and mulberry juice. I guess that would work. Here's a good line: "Toad bile is more reliably lethal when mixed with such items as the poison of spiny fishes and a small shot of powdered glass (hidden in the victim's food.)" Uh-huh.

Oh, that reminds me of a crazy thing I read recently in a self-published and totally delightful diary of a Raj childhood (In Those Days, by Justine Dowley-Wise) -- In 1925 the author's father, who was some sort of factotum for a prince in the State of Bhopal, fell seriously ill, with violent abdominal pains and so forth. The doctor analyzed his stool (such a word. sorry.) and was horrified to discover finely ground tiger's whiskers therein which, apparently, are capable of perforating the bowel and causing death. Really??? According to the doctor, according to the book, this is a well-known means of sneaky murder, and someone had put it into his food! He survived, and moved with his young bride to Calcutta, where the author grew up. Very interesting book! I just got another Raj childhood diary in the mail, but haven't read it yet. You see here a few of my reading obsessions: weird folklore, and Raj India.

Anyway, I'm about halfway through "Emily of New Moon." I just love all her childhood mortifications. I can just feel them. And the way she consoles herself with writing, and "gets square" with people by imagining them into scenes.

And speaking of scenes . . . REVISIONS PROCEED.
Somebody asked me in comments a while back about my revision process, so I thought I'd go a little bit into the "process porn" (as Gwenda calls it). It certainly is not a matter of going chapter by chapter and fixing little things. It's way bigger and more terrifying than that, and I am using an old standby to get through the terror: a new notebook. A nice new notebook. Not one of my hardbound collaged ones, but an unprecious spiral. (Unprecious yes, crappy no. It's from Borders and has nice thick paper that doesn't bleed through.)

So, I read my book. The key is having had several months away from it. I really needed that. So, when I read it, I could really see it. It's remarkable the difference this can make. Anyway, I have a gazillion notes from my editor, and I processed those as I read through the very long manuscript, making notes to myself (and wishing my editor was a bit heavier on the gratuitous compliments, you know, the little "Nice!" and "Lovely!" thrown in here and there to fortify you for the "Cut this chapter" and the "I don't understand what's happening here." Next time I'll have to submit a formal request for compliments along with my manuscript!)

To begin the big attack, I mentally divided my book into 5 parts, beginning with "the set-up" and ending with "the aftermath," and then I took those on individually, thinking about the big issues, the internal logic, new ways to tackle problems to make the book better. I brainstormed a lot about the villain, and when and how to reveal secrets to the reader for maximum impact. I went over and over it, working on the internal logic, seeing what "threads" of the story might be cut altogether and removed from the book to simplify and streamline it. What I'm after is a "complex but elegant" plot. At its core, every book has a skeleton, the pure lines of the story, its essential elements, and though the skeleton may be fatly fleshed and then dressed in layers of velvet and silk, underneath it all, the skeleton must be sound and simple.

Mine was not. Much of my work now is simplifying the skeleton.

You might not know what your skeleton is, really and truly, until after you've written a complete draft. It might not end up being exactly what you thought it would be. I have moments where I say, "Oh! The book is really about. . . X." This is the part where you can state what your book is about in a sentence -- none of the flesh, and none of the velvet, just the skeleton. And once you know what that is, really know it, then you can go back and revise the book so it is clear to the reader too. So that it is sharp and direct, no matter how dressed up it is in fun scenes and imagination and dialogue and excitement.

It's kind of like sharpening a pencil. You're sharpening your story.

So. I've got big new plans that call for vast amounts of rewriting. My notebook is brimming with strategies and bristling with post-its:
Some words of advice:
-- BE OPEN. Cast your imagination wide. Don't be afraid to think of new things and go in whole new directions.
-- BE BRAVE. New ideas may come to you now that will require a ton of new work. This can be overwhelming, but this is your chance to make the book the best it can be. Do whatever you need to do.
-- BE EXCITED. Anything can still happen. This is marvelous. You can still dazzle yourself.
-- BE DETERMINED. You can do it, and you will do it.

Here I go, to follow my own advice!