Coping with Middles

I have been trying to think of anything an editor has ever said to me about the middle of my books because, to be honest, middles are where, for me, most of the problems occur.

And while I've had in the double digits of editors over the past 25 years, I can't recall one of them saying anything remotely useful about middles other than Ann Leslie's occasional [delete this?]. The fact is, if I could delete middles altogether, it wouldn't be a bad thing.

Unfortunately readers seem to expect them in books.

Therefore it is my job to figure them out and put them in.

They are, according to Blake Snyder's Save The Cat book and beat sheet, the 'fun and games' part. This makes them sound like they ought to be fun.

They aren't.

Or they aren't fun to write because there is too much to figure out, too many opportunities to either reject or take advantage of, too many options to explore. And in what order???

Do we play volleyball before or after we collect the firewood? Do we explore the mine shaft before or after dinner when the revelation about the hero's first marriage occurs? And why?

That's the key: why?

Because that's what gets you through the middle. Why should we play volleyball now and collect firewood later? Maybe we should just skip the firewood altogether. We could cook spaghetti instead. But then we would be cold and . . . blah, blah, blah. See? Too many options.

Which to choose? And again, why?

And not just the events -- events are easy. It's the emotional connection to each event that's important. What is it about the firewood or the volleyball or the spaghetti that will trigger the hero's emotional angst, that will move him to the next step. Why does it?

Why??????

Editors, of course, never have the answers to these things. They say what they hope are Encouraging Words and Meant To Be Sustaining Things like, "You'll figure it out."

Of course I will. Eventually. Maybe. I hope.

But it's not easy. Or it isn't easy for me. I have to get inside the heads of these blockheads, er, I mean, characters. and figure out what will work for them.

The next person who asks how long it takes me to 'churn' out a book is likely to get one thrown at his/her head.

Is there an editor who specializes in middles anywhere out there, someone who can say, "Oh, I see. Of course! You just need to do this because then he'll see that that has to happen, and then you do that because he'll need to know she feels thus-and-such, and she will because he will have already told her that blah-blah, and then they'll get to Greece. Simple!"

Absolutely. So if you know of an editor like that, would you introduce us, please?

Preferably before next Monday.

What I learned from Editors, part I

I've been blessed with good editors since day one in my writing career.

The first, at Harlequin Mills & Boon, sent me a revision letter three pages long (this before she ever bought the book) which detailed the issues she wanted addressed.

Boiled down, she said, "There are four things you need to work on: the hero, the heroine, the plot and the ending."

So I did, and sold her the book.

That was when I learned to love rewriting.

Of course I also love those handful of books that have gone straight through with no revisions at all. And I long for another one because I don't hate them so much by the time I see them in print if I haven't seen them in several incarnations first.

But that doesn't happen often.

It probably won't happen with Demetrios, though of course I can hope.

I'm the process right now of doing my own 'editorial' work trying to bring all the pieces together and then write the ending that is promised in the beginning (I just have to figure out what it is).

But as I've been working, I've been remembering what I've learned from each of the editors I've had, because they have all given me insights and understanding and I've learned something from every one of them (even if it's how badly I've communicated what I'm trying to get across to them!)

One who had a huge influence on my ability to rewrite is Silhouette editor Ann Leslie Tuttle. I worked with Ann Leslie for several years and enjoyed the process every time we worked on a book together. What I appreciated most, though, was her ability to see what wasn't needed.

I tend to write long. Mostly, I suppose, so I can grope my way through the book and find out what I want to say. Sometimes I get there with less wandering than I do in others. But when I did wander, I could count on Ann Leslie to make me cut to the chase.

She never cut things herself. She would make notes and ring me and say, "You know, I don't really think you need that scene in the ranch house before the fire."

I don't?

But I slaved days over it. It was the bog I thought I'd never get out of so I could write about the fire!

But when I went back and read it, she was absolutely right. Not only didn't I need it, the book was much faster and sharper without it.

Maybe the truth is that I needed it to see where the story was going and what the mindset of the characters was before the fire, but once I knew it, the book didn't need it -- and neither did the readers.

I could always count on Ann Leslie to point those spots out to me. She made me a better, sharper critic of my own books. But I still wish she were reading Demetrios now, pointing those places out to me.

I am trying to do it myself. But I'm not as good at it.

I cut a scene the other day and thought, "Ann Leslie, you'd be proud of me."

But a chapter later, I realized the reader really needed it, so I put it back.

Still she taught me the difference between what I need to get from one point to the next and what the reader needs.

So, thank you, Ann Leslie, for your wisdom and your deft use of the red pencil and those brackets marked [delete?].

Demetrios wishes you were here!