When a writer’s wings are unleashed and soar to unimaginable heights, it’s the headiest feeling in the world. This burst of energy fuels the fire, long buried in the belly of an artist who’s hell-bent on sharing a story. But what takes off must return to its grounding. It’s just one of those universal laws.
So, that’s where I’m focused: grounding The Phantom Wife during this season of manuscript revisions. A haunting process since I ignored a bit of advice during my latest round of edits. Why? Despite my best intentions, I still tumbled hard into the pitfalls of first-time authorship.
Simply stated—the reader cannot, no, will not be ignored. Writing a manuscript relies on art and psychology, but revisions are primarily based upon gauging the nature of readers’ responses (more science than art). What will they accept? Embrace and remember? Or totally reject? Nobody wants to spend years refining a manuscript to lose her readers in the end, especially since there are resources to guide the process.
As my indie publisher’s developmental editor determines that something’s off, it must be fixed. For example, a character’s backstory may be too lean (result of overediting), which leaves the reader confused about his/her questionable decisions. Maybe details of each ghost’s encounter need enriching (hence, underwriting) to help readers bridge the gap between the MC’s two worlds: the Living and the In-Between. An editorial balance between too little and far too much must be struck.
So, I turn to my literary heroine, American gothic author Shirley Jackson, for inspiration and guidance when I feel defensive about any aspect of The Phantom Wife (still the novel’s title).
Jackson included a letter to new writers in Come Along with Me (published in 1968 after her death). Chocked full of insight, she wrote: “The reader brings with him a great body of knowledge which you may assume, but he must rely on you for all information necessary to the understanding of this story which, after all, you have written.”
Sweet pearls of wisdom. My paranormal novel’s MC, Suzanne Nottingham Martin, is clairsentient…has been for her entire life. Yes, she communicates with trapped ghosts and stranded spirits—when they desire—and while that may seem like the coolest thing ever, it’s not necessarily so. Their sudden and inconvenient appearances provide one of the novel’s significant conflicts, which means finetuning each one’s nature, intention, and relationship to Suzanne: without revealing too much, too soon.
Writing and revising a novel is a behemoth project. At least it has been that kind of journey for me. Ultimately, I’ll delete comprehension roadblocks. Then shed more light on Suzanne’s relationships with mere mortals, like her new bad-boy lover, Max, who oozes an inexplicable magnetism. Hmmm.…
The bottom line? I’ll keep tweaking a story no reader dares to let go…until the end. And when I get stuck, I’ll revisit Jackson’s words: she wrote that authors “have the right to assume that the reader, however lazy, will exert some small intelligence while reading.”
Such a reassuring morsel. I believe in readers, yes, my readers, who won’t desire that all things be wrapped up in tidy little boxes.
After all, I write paranormal fiction.
