Writing Update: In Which Katie Learns She Has an Intuition

Read The Short Version for a quick recap of the last few months and a preview into the near future. Read The Long Version for details about my battle with Act 2B, my experience with an editor, and the confidence both left me with.

The Short Version

What happened? After months of banging my head against a brick wall, I finished the rewrite of Act 2B (the third quarter of the story). I also had a very positive experience with a developmental editor (see blog post here for details). And most importantly, through both experiences, I learned to trust my intuition.

What’s next? The rewrite will continue with Act 3 (the final quarter). If the rest of my journey offers any hint as to how that will go, it will undoubtedly take me longer than expected, which is why I am not allowing myself to establish timelines and expectations.

The ending is arguably the weakest part of Draft 2, so I have my work cut out for me. That said, the rewrite has been challenging thus far because, in addition to improving the story that’s already there, I’ve been doing what I can to strengthen the ending before I get there (weaving in lore, introducing sub-plots, accelerating realizations, etc.). I have yet to see how this will pay off, but I’m hopeful that it will make for a less hurried resolution.

Only time (and lots of writing) will tell.

The Long Version

The Battle for Act 2B

As the short version suggests, I had a bit of a time with the rewrite of Act 2B.

I started out enthused. All I had to do was connect the end of Act 2A with the beginning of Act 3—how hard could it be? I started with the existing trajectory. I’d write a handful of scenes along that trajectory, then decide I hated it, so I’d change something at the beginning of that trajectory, tease out the implications of that change, then hit another snag, after which I’d go back, change something, go forward. Lather. Rinse. Repeat. After about a month and a half, I was no longer enthused.

I have a folder called “Act 2B Scene Attempts.” It holds more than 40 versions of scenes, things I tested and tried. And while each scene was not entirely unique from the others—most of them are re-imaginings or restructurings or Frankenstein’s monsters of existing scenes—you can imagine how frustrating it was to put so much time into something, only to feel like I was getting nowhere. Banging my head against a brick wall, so to speak.

At some point in early February, my frustration began to feel more like defeat. That was when I began to worry. Because when I feel defeated, my thoughts begin to take on a different, darker tone.

Because when I feel defeated, I consider giving up.

There have been three such times in my writing journey: two during Draft 2 (one at the beginning, one in the middle) and once in February, when I was lost in the depths of Draft 3, Act 2B.

This was the most alarming case. It was more intense, more debilitating than the others, perhaps because I was further along in the process, or maybe because it was cold and dark outside. It doesn’t really matter. You get the picture; I was lost, and deeply concerned I couldn’t find my way out.

Finally, something my sister said clicked. While trying to boost me up during this period of self-doubt (she’s very good at it), she said that maybe I kept getting stuck because I didn’t actually like what I was writing. That maybe these new characters and plot points, while interesting, were straying too far from my vision.

As soon as she said it, I knew she was right.

I had been feeling that on some level, but I didn’t want to accept it because it meant going back further. It meant wasted time. It meant starting Act 2B again, and such a thing could potentially increase the frustration and, worse, the defeat.

But not going back, I realized, could have worse consequences.

So I took a day off, and when I came back to my desk, I thought about the story I wanted to tell. I focused on the feeling I got when I first conceived of it, the feeling that had grown, had become clearer, as the words found their way onto the page. And with that feeling in mind, I tried again.

And I saw a new way forward. A new trajectory that would lead me into unexplored territory. All I had to do was give myself the time and space to do it, and trust that I could.

Once I did, the words came easily. Over 40,000 words, in fact.  

It is mid-April, and Act 2B is now finished. It is entirely different than what was in the last draft, and it is undeniably better. It better aligns with my vision for the story, and I love it. It feels right.

Well-Timed Validation

For this part, we’ll take a quite detour back to February.

I sent off the first 5,000 words of Echoes to a developmental editor on January 29th. A few weeks later, she returned those pages with detailed annotations and an editorial letter with her feedback. (See the blog post linked here for more details.) 

I devoured both the positive and constructive feedback. As you’d expect, the positive boosted my confidence in my writing skills (and I would be lying if I said I don’t re-read those comments when I need a reminder that taking this creative risk is worth it). But the constructive did something even more powerful: it confirmed my instincts.

I knew there were things within those first 5k words that weren’t quite right, I just didn’t know how to resolve them. So when the editor articulated my hunches, I felt oddly validated. Further, some of her suggestions for how to address my issues were eerily similar to ideas I had toyed with but had, for some reason (usually fear of breaking some writing rule I’d read about), moved on from. To have an industry professional affirm conclusions and thoughts I had come to all on my own deepened my self-assurance.

Armed with Intuition

It didn’t occur to me until I was writing this update that these two events—finding my footing in Act 2B and receiving editorial feedback—happened within the same week. But it’s all there in my writing log: I figured out the true trajectory of my story three days before that email appeared in my inbox.  

I don’t think it’s coincidental that I trudged on so bravely with Act 2B after receiving that feedback. I think the experience bolstered me. Strengthened me. And as threatening as the defeat had been, it was no match for my fresh confidence, renewed determination, and newfound trust in my instincts. Once I reemerged onto the battlefield fully armed, that defeat retreated. 

And it hasn’t made an appearance since.