Posts tagged ‘milestone’

September 24th, 2010

Finishing

by Johanna Harness

I started my big revision just over a month ago.  I started with a few days of serious planning (shrunken manuscript, note cards, track changes in Word).

Then I spent two weeks changing the big stuff.  In this phase I deleted 160 pages and added 70 pages of new material.  I was seriously thrilled when I reached the end.  Grafting new scenes onto old, changing plot, and revising structure–this is painful, deep-down revision work.

That weekend I went to a local SCBWI conference and came home realizing my first pages needed changing. What the heck, right?  They were all brand new pages anyway. What was one more change?

By the time I finished the new intro, I didn’t recognize my book anymore.  Seriously, I could just retitle it and submit it as new.

And all that new stuff, it started worrying me.  So I spent a few more days fact-checking the lies I was telling.  Because, you know, good fiction is based on good lies.  And good lies need some fact-checking.

But there’s a point too, when I’m writing about dill seed, and I get spices out of the cupboard and I start researching Schilling and then McCormick and I’m reading about the history of the company and Uncle Sam’s Nerve and Bone Liniment–there’s some point in there when I have to think maybe, just maybe, I’m procrastinating. Maybe I’m a tad afraid to resubmit this book to the agent who requested revisions.  Yeah.  Ya think?

And the read-aloud I had planned to start the week before?  I’m afraid the book has changed so much my devoted cheering section will no longer like it.  What if I just ruined it for everyone?

Unfortunately realizing I was terrified did nothing to help me.  It’s that moment when someone sees you’re afraid of heights and they say, “just don’t look down” and you hadn’t considered looking down until they said it and then you can’t help it.

And so yeah, I was almost done really, but I was trapped there, looking down at my manuscript, afraid to move.

I hate that.

So I did what I did when I was a kid and I got stuck in a tree I was trying to climb:  I inched forward for a bit–and then I fell.

I let go of trying to write perfect, compact sentences and I let myself write like hell through the section where I was stuck and 3500 words later, I wasn’t stuck anymore and I flew through the rest.

During read-aloud week I deleted most of those words, but they were a good fall for me and much needed.  And if that scene does make the final cut, the reader may or may not recognize the section.  When Amelia tells Claire about letting go, it’s apparently the lecture the author needed to hear.  I couldn’t fully embrace the new version until I let go of the old.

I spent the last week finishing my read-aloud edit.  And I’m assured by my listeners that I didn’t ruin the story.  (They said nicer things, but really I just wanted to know: ruined or not? And they said not.  And I’ve had bad reviews from them before, so this was not a given.)

Today I finished adding the necessary edits–and off it went to outstanding requests.

Tonight I thought I’d do some catch-up, adding bios to the #amwriting directory, but the admin section of the site is down.  So I’m mulling and rambling here instead.

So here’s to finishing.  No matter where you are in the process or how many revisions you’ve undertaken, here’s to pushing through your fears and finishing. *clink*

August 3rd, 2010

Happy Birthday, #Amwriting!

by Johanna Harness


One year ago today #amwriting started. It’s a birthday. Or a hashtagversary. Or something. It’s cool; that’s what it is.

I’ve been asked since: how does one go about creating a hashtag that takes off like this one did? My answer: I have no idea. I can only tell you how this one started.

Just over a year ago I was hashtag invisible. I had a twitter bug that kept my tweets from appearing in hashtag searches and, thus, live chats. I didn’t know about the bug. I would go to chats, participate, and no one would respond to me. I thought I was just monumentally unpopular. When I found out I was really invisible, I felt a little stupid and I registered a help ticket to correct my search issues. Then I waited–a long time–for a response.

In the meantime, I found that people would respond to me when I’d do a regular shout-out, asking “who is writing right now?” Any time I was writing and felt alone in it, I could call out and ten or twelve people would respond. My only problem was that I then had a conversation going with ten or twelve people and I was no longer writing. I wanted to know other writers were writing alongside me, hear them talking to me AND each other, participate here and there, and get back to work.

So I tried something different: as more people responded to my semi-regular shout-outs, I experimented with retweeting comments, hoping writers would find each other and continue the conversation, even after I moved on to writing. It didn’t work that way. Instead, the more I retweeted, the more new people responded. Instead of talking with ten or twelve people, I was now conversing with twenty or twenty-five.

#amwriting rose out of a synchronicity of events that happened in one evening. A follower DM’d me and said, “I have to unfollow you because you tweet and retweet way too much” and an email came in telling me my hashtag invisibility was fixed.

The next morning when I did my call-out, I suggested a hashtag with morning implications–because it was morning in my part of the world. I immediately received responses from people all over the world saying, “What about me? I’m writing right now, but it’s not morning here. Can I play?”

And honestly, my immediate response was, “OMG. Someone from across the world is writing at the same time I’m writing. My sun is coming up and their sun is going down and it’s the same sun and look! There’s someone else fixing soup for lunch every afternoon when I’m barely awake here and I’m not even in the same season with half these people–and we’re still writing alongside each other and we’re caring about the same things and this is the most amazing thing EVER!”

And I responded: “Um, yeah, that’s cool.”

So for about an hour during a time that happened to be morning where I was, this hashtag was for morning writers, because I was totally provincial and short-sighted. During the second hour of existence, “AM writing” came to mean “I am writing” because it was better.

Then, about an hour after that, @inkyelbows showed up in a room full of chatter and asked how long we’d been meeting and she asked for information she could post on her website about the chat.

And I was thinking, “We have a chat?” And I looked around and there were about thirty people chatting and I realized, “oh, yeah, we have a chat.” So I wrote something up and sent it to Debbie. (Thank you, Debbie!) And then more people asked, so I created a FAQ (http://bit.ly/9yoZUE).

Every morning I’d do the same call-out, but I encouraged people to talk to one another and not just me–and I pointed them to the FAQ. More people showed up every day. Then they started showing up before me–and staying after I’d gone. I remember discovering #amwriting discussion continuing two hours after I left the chat and I was so excited I couldn’t stand it.

My goal became something simple: I wanted #amwriting to grow big enough it wouldn’t need me anymore.

Today we’re there.

We have over 2000 active participants and you can find writers posting to #amwriting around the clock. We have published and pre-published, indie and traditional, business writers and novelists, and we cross boundaries without blinking.

The one thing that pulls us all together, always, is that we are practicing our craft. It doesn’t matter how much we have written in the past or what our intentions might be for future writing. What matters is the moment of writing: the process. It’s great to know someone will celebrate with you when you spend your day replacing passive verbs with active–or when you finally find the perfect name for your dastardly character with a sexy limp. It’s great to know that you can ask goofy writer research questions like, “what’s the circumference of a blood spatter under these conditions?” and someone probably knows. Or you can say, “I’m switching from third to first person” and others understand the mountain of work to which you’ve committed yourself. It’s great to have people like Joe “Mr. Clarity” Roy reminding us that the well-turned phrase impacts more than a novel or poetry; it impacts everything within a business or organization.

So on this day when #amwriting turns a year old, I do my regular call-out: “Who is writing right now?” and I lift my cup to writers everywhere, no matter where you are or what you write–because you people are the smartest people anywhere and I’m so incredibly lucky to know you. Thank you for opening your hearts and minds not just to me, but to each other. It’s been a great first year.


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