September 2021 - The Unschool for Writers Newsletter

Process journal & "rough edges"; Not back-to-school; the Index; the usual!

Photo by Tommy Lisbin on Unsplash

I’ve been hiking, and traveling, and working hard this past month. Working hard means writing, and lots of it.

My process journal

All my words to you about keeping a process journal—and I’ve ended up wondering about sharing some of mine with you. (You can let me know about this. I have in mind a monthly update, which would include the business/publishing side as well as writing. I don’t want this site to become about me and my work. But it’s good to know what is useful to you and your writing.)

In a nutshell: I tend to have at least two projects happening simultaneously, as well as others. The “others” are—typically—in different stages, either nascent or wrapping up—re-writing for publication, for instance. Or scribbling thoughts on development.

The main two projects are “long” and “short.” So I usually have a novel growing, and to fill in the times when I need a break from that process, I work on picturebooks, or short pieces. Breaks are a significant part of the process for me—and the timing of them.

At this point, I have the complete draft of an adult novel, now on its third “working title.” I began the novel in October of 2019. About six months ago, it went through a total of three beta readers. One returned it with an amazing—and exhaustive—set of comments, for which I was most grateful. I spent the next 6-8 weeks reviewing page by page (hard-copy), changing up various things as per the reader’s suggestions (using those suggestion to wring out my own thoughts) as well as noting more drastic possibilities that came to mind as a result. (This is what good editing should do.) That step—a sort of transcribing—feels almost mechanical, yet is a necessary piece. (And “mechanical” has its own useful piece in “process.”) I then transferred all changes and notes to the digital/computer version.

And set it all aside to do other projects for a few months to clear my head. And to simultaneously begin the process of RE-envisioning. Because even when I am not working over the pages of a project, some part of my mind is still very much involved with it.

Time is significant

There is no rushing things. Patience, I remind myself. Frequently.

And now it is time. As of a week ago, I crawled back into the novel (354 pages). It always takes a number of days to feel “in,” but I’m now feeling that. It’s curious, how there’s a time of picking, and then something takes hold, momentum builds, the thing starts to feed and fuel itself… and I’m caught up in the ride. I find there can be between 5-10 days before I feel that movement. And I’ve done it often enough to have a blind faith it will happen. It took a years to develop that faith! There have been times when I’ve reminded myself “It will happen!” And then simply kept at it, day after day, reading, changing things, changing them back. It really is the process I outlined in the piece about “finding your way back” into a work.

I am at the point I think of as “rough edges” and “smoothing.” And deciding what are the edges I need to hold on to.

I’m not a huge believer in that refrain (I use this word because I’ve heard it often) about “spontaneity,” and my own sense of “precious” when I first began to seriously explore writing; I’ve learned to look at first drafts with a dubious eye. I’ve learned that so often words I think of as musical or meaningful are nowhere near what they’ll be when a work is truly finished. Often, they’ve been long tossed at that point. Writing IS re-writing.

But… and this is the challenging part: there are rough and raw places in one’s work, and it is exactly those that can be the handholds and the footholds that not only allow you, the writer, to proceed through your story, but the reader, too. These are pieces that reveal character or insight, the pieces that breathe life into a manuscript. It’s not all plotting and character-building; there’s mystery and alchemy.

On the cliff-face, the climber needs the rough bits. Without them, the climber is sliding down the face, and worse.

How to recognize those bits—the raw, the mystery—is key.

Some thoughts:

Read aloud

Before a manuscript goes to its final published version, I read sections aloud, as if for a public reading. If I imagine it for a reading—an event—I’m tougher on it. I hear more and I hear differently. That toughness needs to be applied to the manuscript as a whole. The “toughness” is about making it visible and tangible not only for a reader, but for a listener. There is a difference that you can recognize when you read aloud.

Get rid of weak words

“Was” can be loose rocks on the cliff-face. “It” is another word that often needs to be spelled out: what is it? Unless “it” is immediately following to what it is referring, make certain the reader knows exactly what that is. Which might mean spelling it out again, or in some renewed fashion. Again, read aloud.

Learn to recognize your own set of weak words. “Just” is one of mine. If you have some whispery idea that a word is in your “set” do a “find” on your computer and see how many times the word occurs in your manuscript. Review them to see how—or if—they are functioning.

Construction

Too many short sentences? Too many long? There’s how your language is heard. And there is also how it looks. Seriously, what does it look like sitting on the page? If you couldn’t read the language, what would you think of it? Some languages I’d love time to learn because of how they appear. Pick up a book written in an unfamiliar language. How does it look? How does your text look? Sometimes “raw” appears to belongin the placing of a sentence, the breaking of a paragraph. Sometimes “raw” should not be touched.

Shiver

Last and not least: does the raw bit make you laugh? cry? wonder? pause? feel angry?

Does it make you shiver? The shiver-test is what does it for me. I am loathe to touch material—phrases, a sentence, a short passage—that has this effect on me. If it doesn’t move you, why would it move the reader?

Exercise/prompt:

Find “rough and raw” spots in your own work, maybe your WIP—work in progress—and consider whether you should leave as is, polish and smooth, or make even more raw.

It may be a place at which you’ve smoothed too much away.

Or any spot that leaves you questioning all this.

Work with it—or consciously choose not to change.

Post both the original, and your changes or explain the lack of change.

Then let’s collectively bring on some feedback! I look forward to seeing your posts. (Or questions.)

September “back to school” and The Unschool

photo: first day of homeschooling… one September, long ago…

Where does the name The Unschool come from?

From years of homeschooling my youngest son. After a grade four year of misery, he decided to eschew the classroom, and hangout with his quilt, his dog (left!), books, and the floor-to-ceiling windows… which I frequently found him staring out. (And had to remind myself that this is why he’s at home!)

Staring out the window was part of his learning, I learned. And I made the connection: I cannot write if I am not in front of a window.

Here in British Columbia is the optimal place in the world to learn at home. To do so independently (though responsibly) is entrenched in Sections 12 and 13 of our Education Act. And we took full advantage of the freedom. When he wasn’t in the hammock reading, or working at that little table, he was out walking around the neighbourhood with earbuds, listening to podcasts about world history, and more.

It took months, initially, to DE-school, to make the move to UN-school. Months to get rid of the notion of recess and lunch breaks and weekends and summer break. To get to the idea that we are—as humans—learning all the time. (Even when we are taking breaks, as mentioned in my writing “routine” above!)

Learning is what makes us feel alive. Growing.

Both of us learned that the de-schooling piece took time—its own time.

How does that translate to adults?

Back in the 1970s, I did several years of schooling by “correspondence.” The first year was grade four, when my family was traveling. I whipped through the readings and assignments, mailing them off to Victoria, enjoying the writing back and forth with my teacher—who I never did meet in person. I wrote long notes to her, and I believe that year really cemented so much about my writing, especially writing as communication, and for pleasure.

And—best—those years of correspondence and being accountable for my own work taught me about creating and sticking to self-imposed deadlines.

If there is one single must that writers live with, it is the need to meet self-imposed deadlines. Bottom line: no one cares what you accomplish (unless you’re JK Rowling, writing that last HP book… )

Unschooling is all about learning what are your questions, and seeking answers. Doing/writing. Completing. And then recognizing what needs to be redone. Getting brave and sending out, to communicate with the world.

September. A month that is traditionally “back to school” for many of us. This will be the first year in too-many-to-count that I have not returned to some institutional building, to stand at the front of a room and talk about writing. Which is the strangest thing to talk about really—because writing is all about doing. Being and doing.

This September

Do you need to de-school in order to un-school? What notions and beliefs are you grappling with? and how do they affect your writing?

Consider what this month has meant in your past, and how to re-shape that to your own needs. If it’s been too much about “school”—or the negative of—push to break free of that; make it a time of “retreat”—recess on a big scale. How did Mark Twain put it? Never let school get in the way of your education.

On the other hand, if September is a time you typically welcome, then go with that. You might use the 3 Day Novel weekend to produce what Anne Lamott infamously terms a “shitty first draft” to have something to explore in the coming months. Or, quite possibly, the turn of season just galvanizes you. I know it does me, and I work with that.

Autodidact

An word for someone who learns apart from those buildings, rooms, desks. “Self-taught” is often cited as the definition. But we are all, always, learning from each other. From what we read. By questioning… pretty much everything!

And by exploring those answers through-and-in-the-midst of the sweet work of writing. Onward…

The Index

I am excited to announce that I have—as promised—put together an INDEX of all The Unschool posts, listed by category. Now that there is something like 50 posts, this was really needed.

August posts - summaries

The Newsletter this month looked at renku, and Sheldon Goldfarb, James Maynard (check out his newsletter, And Now, A Sonnet!), Minna (of Cabinet of Curiosities), and Stephanie Hall all contributed to the Renku thread. Check it out, and add your own. It would be good to keep this running…

3 Day Novel posts include a post about outlining and planning, as well as a “primer” on novel writing, and the difference between novels and novellas.

The monthly post for writing for young people also connects with the theme of novel-writing, and compares the age-groupings for novels for younger readers.

Number 4 in the “Foundational” series—for new or re-newing writers—looks at the quest for either quality of quantity in our daily writing, and how to develop the habit of “daily.”

And we ventured into creative nonfiction, with a look at the “braided” essay—something to think about even if you are writing a short or long piece of fiction or picturebook… or anything, really. “Layers” always builds your writing. So does thinking in terms of juxtaposition.

The last post for the month was a more whimsical one, connecting the Tao Te Ching to writing. This was something like the Bob Dylan piece of July. Sometimes, coming at this thing we do from a different perspective is a catalyst for renewed energy, or for some idea blowing up in a most useful way!

Do share pieces with other writers you know! Spread the word.

Forthcoming Posts - What I’m working on for The Unschool

For September, I’ll get back to posting a grammar piece and book review (memoir).

A couple of subscribers have sent questions: the difference between YA fiction and adult. And a question about choosing self-publishing over traditional and vice versa—a huge topic (might have to be split into two or three posts once I begin to explore).

In October, I’m going to try something old and new—that is, an old favourite, my “holiday writing” mini-course. It’s not limited to mid-winter celebrations, but is open to any holiday, any vacation time. I’ll be opening a section for you to workshop each others’ work and ideas, and I’m excited to see how that will work out. (This will be limited to paid subscribers—consider going paid for a month or two to check out this.)

In the past, when I’ve run this course, writers have created stories to birth picturebooks and family stories, short fiction, memoir pieces, and often gifted them to family and loved ones. It’s been a lot of fun, truth!

As always, do let me know if there are topics you’d like to see. Questions of genres and forms, whatever…

email: alison@alisonacheson.com

The 3 Day Novel Contest - Labour Day weekend

Let’s crack open this 3 Day Novel Contest weekend with a series of posts!

The first will be a few hours before that midnight start, Friday, and I’ll post a few more times, with ideas in the event you are stalled, and more. Keep an eye out for them, even if not doing the contest.

If not, you might consider just spending the weekend with a focus on your writing! And don’t hesitate to post in the discussion, too.

Please share ANY QUESTIONS or issues you are having through the 72 hours on the discussion thread that I set up in the past week.

*NOTE: this is for paid subscribers only.

A HUGE thanks to those who have gone “paid” in subscribing!

I am very grateful to those who have made this choice; it makes all the difference between being able to do this and not being able to do it. So if you have made this choice, Thank you! and you can stop reading here and now! (Maybe have fun with the exercise, and post!)

For those who are undecided, I’m going to ask: are you getting something useful out of The Unschool?

If so, please consider paying just for a month or two even—now would be a good time, with the Labour Day weekend pieces and mini-course in October.

Peace—

Alison

alison@alisonacheson.com