Some months ago, Jaycee Weaver wrote a blog post about the love-hate relationships authors have with their first books.
Along with other InspyRomance authors, I shared with Jaycee about my first ever published book which, while flawed, still has a special place in my heart, and I love it despite its awkwardness.
There is, however, one book I wrote that was so weak that I regret ever putting it out into the world.
This is a story about That Story.
Three years ago, I took part in a limited edition anthology. The novellas all had to be based on a specific trope or plot device, and we had strict restrictions about the word count and timeline.
With my deadline looming, I buckled under the time crunch and skipped one of my usual steps when writing a story: I did not get feedback from my critique partners or beta readers.
Normally when I’m writing a book, I write the first two drafts and seek a second pair of eyes for feedback. At this stage, I’m not talking about things like typos or missed words, but kind of deep, structural issues that make or break a story. Things like is the plot believable, are there plot holes, does anything feel contrived, forced, or rushed, does the story drag at any point, and do the characters come across as well-rounded.
Whenever I ask for this kind of feedback, I always, always, always get priceless input that goes into making the book way better than it would otherwise have been.
Since I was afraid of missing my deadline for That Story, I opted not to get a story-level critique, even though it got a line and copy edit and was free from typos and other surface-level errors.
I tried to bury my nagging feeling that the story was sub-par.
The anthology came out, and in the formatted compilation my story was second last, coming after 23 other novellas from different authors. Being shunted to the back meant it got very little attention, unless somebody read all the other stories first or came looking specifically for mine.
The novella’s obscurity was a blessing in disguise, because I would hate to be judged as a writer based on That Story.
The novella’s obscurity was a blessing in disguise, though, because I would hate to be judged as a writer based on That Story.
As soon as the anthology finished its three-month publication run, most of the other authors put their novellas up for sale. Not me. I buried mine deep in my computer’s hard drive because I knew in my gut that it was far from good.
It sat there gathering digital dust for almost three years while I worked on other projects and studied my craft. Every so often, I’d think about That Story, wondering whether I could do something with it. The original restrictions on word count and that plot device no longer existed, so I could make it longer, enlarge the story as a whole, and expand the timeline.
A few weeks ago, I decided to do what I ought to have done before publishing this manuscript. I sent That Story out to a beta reading team to look at it with honest and critical eyes.
The feedback confirmed that my gut was right. The story is flaccid, the characters shallow and forgettable, and the plot contrived. And, no, it’s not impostor syndrome or false modesty: it is a weak story, and will never again see the light of day unless I give it a makeover.
I’m not just talking about a new lick of paint and adding throw pillows. That Story needs to be gutted down to the studs. Actually, the makeover needs to be more extreme than that because there are structural issues that make it unsound.
It’s much more interesting to play with a shiny new story than to go back and rewrite an old one around which lingers the whiff of shame and failure.
I don’t know whether I’ll ever actually do it, though. I’ve got writing projects lined up for the next 18 months or so that I’m more excited about. It’s much more interesting to play with a shiny new story than to go back and rewrite an old one around which lingers the whiff of shame and failure. Perhaps if I just treat it like a brand new book and write it from the ground up, I might be more motivated to give the concept a chance.
While I regret publishing That Story, as with all things, God has used it for my good. I’ve learned that I can’t rush the writing process and need to trust my gut when I sense that there’s something off about my manuscript. I’m happy I learned that lesson, but it’s never pleasant to have your teaching moments play out in public!
Do you think I should rewrite That Story? Or is it better to tuck it into the past and move on?
I write fiction that reflects my Christian faith. I love happy endings, heroes and heroines who discover sometimes hard but always vital truths, and stories that uplift and encourage. My family and I live in the east of England where we enjoy rambling in the countryside, reading good books and making up silly lyrics to our favorite songs.
Mila, just leave it in God’s hands. If He wants you to resurrect it, He will inspire you and the results will be fantastic!
Meanwhile, carry on with what you’re writing now.
God bless!
Aw, thanks for your encouragement, Margaret.
I think you wanted to know if your gut feeling was right and I think in time you will want to redo this story just to know you can. But as Margaret said in God’s time. I feel the fact you did send it to the beta readers its been on your mind and who knows maybe its the start of a story or series you will be lead to write.
I have learnt even with small things like writing minutes I need to get a second pair of eyes as I often don’t see my errors (not good at spelling) and sometimes I invert words or leave one out. when I don’t get the to the president early we find the errors
I think you will feel better if you redo your story so it will be the best you believe it can be.
Milla, I have to agree with Margaret. Just pray about it. If it’s what God wants you to do, then I know that it will be as great as your other books.
Thanks, Jenny. If nothing else, it was a major learning experience, and that’s worth a lot.
That’s my feeling as well, Lori.
You’re very kind, Bonnie. Thank you.
I am now singing ‘we don’t talk about that story’ to the tune of ‘we don’t talk about Bruno’ lol.
This is a really interesting insight into the writing process, thank you – I always find it fascinating to hear how writers work.
I’m thinking about really famous writers in the past, when stories were down on paper and couldn’t be hidden away in computer files – who years after their deaths get every fragment they may have written, good or bad, published for everyone one to read, I’ve never considered before but I wonder how they would have felt about it.
I do agree with others though – I think if God wants you to write this story, you’ll find a way of doing it and making it something you’re proud of. I think sometimes it does take really messing something up to learn and improve – I’ve never written anything, but I do have work related incidents I look back on and cringe with embarrassment, but I think I’m better now because of them.
Since That Story is obviously still with you, I think you should re-write it! It sounds like a story that’s going to be meaningful in more ways than one, though the timing may need to be put off for awhile. Sometimes, it’s those hard to forget things that will bring the most change.
Ha ha, that song lodged itself into my head for a good long time the first time I heard it!
And I do believe we can learn from our mistakes, if we let ourselves. Then at least the mistake was good for something! That’s why I’m revisiting that really uncomfortable period of my writing life and gleaning what lessons I can from it.
Thanks for your thoughtful comment, Trudy! I still really like the concept of That Story, although the execution was poor. :-)
I do believe you should rewrite the story. I think that you’ll feel better.
Thanks, Kathleen. I think I would, too!
Hey, Milla! Two things come to mind. One, if your mind keeps going back to That Story, then it sounds like you’re not content to let it slide into the past without another shot.
Two… maybe it doesn’t need to be lengthened/ fixed. Maybe you can “mine” That Story for the kernel that made you love the idea initially. Maybe one of the main characters, or the basic situation they’re in. And then write an all-new story with that novella as a springboard rather than simply expand it/ fix it. (As if it is simple to expand or fix!!!)
I have a couple of weaker older stories I’m occasionally tempted to “fix,” too. I don’t think I ever will.
What a lovely post. You must feel safe in this community to be so honest about something so personal. I believe the “gut” feeling emotion is from God. It’s never let me down. As to whether you should resurrect That Story, trust your gut. If God wants it to happen, He’ll show you in the right time.
Thanks for your thoughts! It’s never easy to “just fix” a story, is it? If I do revisit it, I’ll probably just take the concept and write something entirely new.
Aw, thanks, Erin. Yes, this is a lovely community! One of the warmest corners of the Internet. :-D I’m learning to trust God more and more with my writing.
I think that at this time, tuck it away. If the Lord lays it on your heart to pick it up and gut it to rewrite the story in the future, then go ahead and follow the Lord’s leading. Thank you for sharing. God bless you.
whatever you feel
Thanks, Debra! For sure, it’s not something I’m going to write just yet, so I’ll let it simmer while waiting for God’s leading.
Thanks, BN!
Hi Milla, I think it depends on a few factors. If your writing process includes the ability to layer and deepen the characterisation and story elements, and if you find a spot within your story worlds where a revamped version of the original story would fit, and if you’re feeling prompted to revisit the characters and have fresh ideas, and have the time available to do the necessary work, then go for it! 😊
It does seem like you have a feeling of incompleteness & reworking it could give you closure. But here’s my radical idea: what if you made it shorter? Take what you like about the story & turn it into flash fiction for Spark or even Woman’s World? (The latter pays pretty good.)
Without more info on the story I don’t know if that’s feasible … just an idea. Realizing I can make something shorter has worked well for me.
That’s an interesting approach I hadn’t considered. Thanks, Narelle! I was thinking of just getting the basic concept and beginning afresh.
Ha ha, shorter? That’s definitely a radical approach, Sharyn! But I’m willing to consider anything. Thanks!
If you get inspired, you will rewrite it. I did rewrite (or heavily edit and complete) some stories/ novellas/ novels written in my teens or early twenties, with good results.
A novella became a short stories collection, because this was the best way to tell that story, and it was radically improved, keeping only the characters names and the general idea of the initial novella. Two of the short stories it got transformed into won literary prizes and got published in anthologies.
Two YA novels got merged and heavily rewritten in order to have the same logical timeline and characters (because initially the second one happened 70 years later or more, so it was a bit different technology, i.a.)… and I have other examples too. So it is possible.
That’s fantastic to hear, Marina! Thanks for sharing your encouraging experience.