Writing Update: On Well-Trodden Paths & Pages
Note: Scroll to the bottom for a writing update that is straight to the point and free of hiking metaphors.
The last few months of 2023 were spent on well-trodden paths and pages.
For context, we live about a mile from the Metacomet trail system in Connecticut. Unless we’re out of town, my husband, dog, and I are in those woods every weekend. We call them “our woods,” because we rarely see anyone else in them, and because after four years of regular walks, they feel like home.
It was a particularly rainy fall, and a section of our woods that was already borderline gross became a muddy, impassible mess. After a few failed attempts to solve the problem with logs and big rocks, we had 3,000 pounds of gravel delivered to our driveway.
Every Saturday and Sunday in November and December, we stuffed that gravel into backpacks, carried it into the woods, and dumped it on the muddiest areas.
At first, it didn’t make much of a difference; the gravel simply became part of the mud. But we kept at it, reinforcing it layer by layer. Weekend after weekend.
I didn’t realize it, but at the time, I was going through a similar phase in my writing journey.
While we were shoring up the weakest sections of trail, I was reluctantly revising the early chapters of Echoes. I’d forced myself back to the beginning to address some glaring foundational issues. Issues that would require a lot of time and energy to fix.
In both cases—on the path and the page—the work was grueling, and I didn’t want to be doing it. I wanted to move forward. To spend my mental energy completing scenes in the latter half of the book and my physical energy on long distance treks. But for a period, I found myself stuck in the beginning, weighed down by a 40-pound backpack and frustration.
But all things come to an end. On New Year’s Eve, when the gravel pile in our driveway was nothing more than a few scattered grey-black rocks, I realized my to do list had dwindled, too. I was finally free to continue rewriting the rest of the story. The burden was lifted.
And in hindsight for both cases, it was absolutely worth the effort.
I smile when I reach that stretch of trail and hear the rocks crunch beneath my boots. Because it’s so much better than mud, but also because witnessing how much it has improved fills me with a deep sense of satisfaction and pride.
I feel the same about the beginning of Echoes. I didn’t at first, because each small change got sucked into the mud, but eventually, the layers of improvements accumulated to create something stronger. Better. Something that can support the weight of the story I’m trying to tell.
While my writing progress at the end of 2023 cannot be measured by word counts, scene completion rates, or a path of rocks winding through the fallen leaves, it can be measured by the chills I get when I read it out loud to myself. By the satisfaction I feel when early readers remark on the noticeable improvements. By my growing confidence that every hour I put into this project is an hour well-spent.
The repair work was just as important as blazing a new path. A new page. And thanks to that work, I entered 2024 with re-fortified foundations and fresh wisdom. The next time I run into a muddy patch, I’ll know what to do: make what improvements I can, day-by-day, layer-by-layer.
One backpack at a time.
Writing Update: Short & Sweet
In October, I revealed my goal to complete Draft 3 by the end of 2023. I didn’t make any promises, though. Turns out, that was wise.
What happened? In November, I put a pause on that plan and reluctantly directed my energy toward Act 1 (the first quarter of the story). I did it to address some foundational issues and to prepare for an upcoming developmental edit of the first 5k words. Despite these important reasons, I spent most of this time frustrated to be “backtracking,” even though in hindsight, it’s clear what I did was far from backtracking.
I completed these changes in early January, and now that they’re done, I’m pleased with both the decision and the results. Act 1 is noticeably better.
What’s next? I will continue with the rewrites I was so jazzed about in October, starting from the midpoint of Draft 3.
The developmental edit of the first chapter(s) will occur in February; I expect it will generate more work in the form of rewriting and editing. I’m nervous to have a professional look at my work, but also incredibly excited.
Check back in April to see how it went!