Wooden Nickels or Gold?

I just finished a new novel.

Again—the same one.

When I finally got the plot down, I thought, ‘I’m finished. Yeah! Now I’ll just go in and layer in more richness and I will be there.’ Did that, now I’m finished.

Not.

This could be the point at which self-published authors get themselves into hot water when they stop and publish, and fail to get their best work out. Novels take so much more to be really good than to simply slam down a story, fill in with a bit of depth and publish.

When I decided to write this present story, I knew I needed a critique group. To find the right one is absolutely essential, or at least some very good beta readers (same thing, no?) You must have outside trained eyes to tell you where you are missing the mark, because in your head you see it so clearly, and yet you might not have all of that down on the page and won’t know that until someone tells you—hopefully not after you are published.

Or, maybe you have too much down on that page, a regurgitation of all the details that should have remained in the back story and come out in the action and dialogue of the characters.

Or, you are so in love with your own words and can’t see that all those lovely phrases are slowing the story down and should be axed. Most readers will skip them anyway to get to the story—if they are patient. If not, well you might have lost a reader—many readers.

Other eyes are needed for perspective.

So, I went through this whole story with my group. It started out as a sequel to my first novel to be published in June (Dance the Dream Awake), but instead, eked its way out of that sequel (yet to be finished) into a stand-alone of the past life of two main characters in my first, and next, book. It gets complicated because I write about past lives.

Now at the end, when I thought it was ‘finished,’ the richness has to be drawn out—the criticism being focused on the details that I left out to get the story down. But I see it all so clearly in my head, why can’t you? 

Uh, you forgot to put that on the page. 

(Probably because I tend to write short (short story writer for many years)—focused on the facts—quick and dirty.)

I was flattered by one of my critique partners who is so taken with my story, she left off concentrating on her own work to give me ideas for mine (you know who you are JoAnne).

So, what to do? I need to go yet deeper—live under each character’s skin and see what they see, feel what they feel, hear what they hear in that special world that informs their whole existence. The characters need to emerge from their place on the drawing board and worm their way into the reader’s imagination so they will become unforgettable. They are begging for a fairy god-mother’s touch to awaken them like Pinocchio.

I know this. Did I do this? Not as thoroughly as I thought. Not until I got to the last two chapters and ‘finished’ did the avalanche of loving critique hit me and wash over me. Only then could everyone in the group see that they wanted more and I hadn’t fully delivered—yet. They want more richness, more details to engage them—like that ATT commercial of the little girl being questioned in the classroom: 

“ . . . .if there is more less stuff, you might want to have some more and your parents just don’t let you because there’s only a little. We want more, we want more because we really like it and we want more—like you really like it and you want more, you want more” 

Have you given your story all it should have? Or do your readers want more?

. . . to be continued next blog post. . . . (It will not be as long a wait as this post was. Without boring you with details, life got in the way for several weeks there—sorry.)

Do you have a critique group or beta readers that help push you for more?

Do you overwrite or underwrite (like me)?

What is your process to be sure you have given your story all it requires?

P.S. I’ve been working on a website, and finally caved and put up a simpler one than the original I attempted. www.coraramos.com I still don’t have it finished but I threw up my hands and told myself, it is what it is—for now! (Critique of it much appreciated if you have suggestions.)