Junior Stood Up and Shook Up the Story

My inbox showed an email from a literary magazine, and I read what I expected:
“Thank you for your submission. However….”

I knew the story I submitted needed work, but I half hoped it would get accepted for publication anyway. Still, I archived the email – what else do you do with rejection letters? – and set my mind on a rewrite of the story, sooner than later.

I pulled a scene from a different story and wove it into the beginning of my rewrite. I changed the title to “Borrowed Time.” I liked the new title and the way the new first scene reshaped itself. When I got to the middle of the story, I let one character leave the chair that he sat in through the entire first version. Once he got up and started walking around, his persona changed and shifted the entire tone of the story.

Junior started out as a rough, lanky, balding guy who smoked too much, ate too little, and wasn’t shy about his chauvinism. In the rewrite, he was taking up more space and air. Junior grew more sinister, and then he turned up dead.

Junior’s actions and his demise left me in a lurch. I wrote Junior’s death scene with my eyes fixed on the screen, my fingers typing non-stop. My mind was fluid in every direction that played out. But because I have been over dramatic before, in life and in my writing, I questioned those changes minutes after I saved the draft and closed my laptop.

Do I rewrite through the darker tone, or do I settle Junior back down and re-revise the original scene?

How do you know when a significant rewrite, not just an edit, adds strength and life to a story and doesn’t just blow up a scene with unnecessary tension?

Words for Word Lovers

It’s Wednesday, and while you may eagerly await the word of the day, I must preface my post with a prologue.

On Monday, Anu Garg — the word master extraordinaire and creator of Wordsmith.org — explained his process in finding the word of the day:

I like to say that words come to me. “Pick me!” “Pick me!” They raise their hands, eager to go out, be widely known in the language, and find a place on people’s tongues.

From time to time I scour dictionaries for words, to seek out more obscure ones. When I stumble upon an interesting word, I feel as excited as a paleontologist might feel on finding a fossil, or a geologist on discovering a new form of rock.

I appreciate learning new words, yes. But I liken the “finding a fossil” kind of excitement to that moment I slip my hand into my winter coat pocket for the first time in the season and pull out a five dollar bill from last season. Still, this week’s theme on Wordsmith.org caught my writer’s attention and brought a little skip to my step: words about words.

Ooo, exciting.

Monday, rhopalic: adjective. having each successive word longer by a letter or syllable.
Yesterday, periphrastic: adjective. using a roundabout form of expression: wordy.
Today, epanorthosis: noun. immediate rephrasing of something said in order to correct it or make it stronger.

This week, along with his enticing theme, Anu Garg offers a contest. You can even win prizes, like the boardgame WildWords, the antithesis of Scrabble. Any game that claims itself to be opposite of Scrabble, and to lift losers out of the Scrabble gutter, is a sigh-of-relief miracle for people like me who (under pressure) can only think of four letter words not allowed in a dignified game of wooden-tiled crosswords.

But, back to the words at hand. This week’s gems are not only fun to learn but also challenging to use in a blog entry. Though, with my periphrastic post so far, I’ve at least succeeded in incorporating one epanorthosis.

But rhopalic stumps me. As tiles spread across wooden Scrabble structures obligate undeviating intimidation, the word haunts me. And, I hear again my repeat concession muttered after almost every turn during my last game of Scrabble.

“I got nothin’.”

Knit One, Purl Two, Write 500.

For the next several weeks, I’ll be wishing I had four hands: two to write, two to knit.

With Christmas just around the corner, I am behind – again – on my  gift schedule. This year I have yet to rewrite my list four or five times (whether for neatness or edits). But, with a whole afternoon to myself today, I shopped anyway.

At one point, I stopped at the fabric store and perused the yarn aisle. Drawn to the color and the texture of yarn, I bought more than I needed, I’m sure. While I can’t wait to get to my needles, I approach knitting with caution. If you read my last post, you’ll know why. I’ve decided to knit dish rags this year (safe and easy, they say), and I’ll claim creative license if they don’t end up perfectly square.

On top of enough yarn for a stack of rags (hope my family plans on doing a lot of dishes), I also committed to write 500 words a day. Thanks, Debbie Ohi, for the challenge. The badge is up. With today’s 500 under my belt, I’m on my way.

In Julia Cameron’s The Artist’s Way, she writes that creativity presents itself in many different ways. All we have to do, as artists or writers or knitters, is open our mind to the Spirit (or muse) that guides us. 500 words a day doesn’t sound like much, especially when you’re just coming off of NaNoWriMo, but it still means sitting down and writing or editing 500 words on one story or another. I hope, in knitting dishrag after dishrag (boy, that’s an unappealing cluster of words), one creative endeavor will influence another.