The Forest for the Trees

Finalizing and Refining a Memoir (vs. rererewriting)

Behind the scenes post on hiring helpful help, getting a group to read the whole book, an inside look at process for successful writers, and an open mic 🎤 prompt

Welcome back:

One leash for Spencer. One for mom.

My boy Spencer was fourteen months old and walking on his own well enough to help me walk the dog. And I was living, breathing, eating and sleeping my first book, having refined and revised no less than a hundred times.

I’d write a few chapters, print them out, and then take the pages to the gym where I’d ride the stationary bike or the elliptical trainer while reading and making edits. Then I’d come back home and enter the changes into the original. Plus I continued attending the Dangerous Writing class. Plus I was in Rodger’s group.

To gain extra work-time, I hired a helper to do some housekeeping and laundry and make a few meals.

“Spencer! My king. My love!” this helper named Slovka would say in her broken English. “Give me boy! Give me beautiful boy.”

In her late forties, maybe early fifties, Slovka was from Split, Croatia and over time I learned she had lost home, possessions, money, career, friends, family, and even her history. How Slovka’s broken heart was able to burst open like dandelion gone to seed, I did not know. But each week she not only cleaned the house but soon took Spencer for walks around the block, then to the park, and finally got him down for naps. She would bring us food, too. Gnocchi for him. Chicken stock for me.

“You work too hard! I can hardly believe what I see. All the time,” she would say to me. “Give me that beautiful boy.”

Her coffee was to die for, too. Slovka made it in a sauce pan. I can’t even say how. Some secret recipe of finely ground beans topped with dollops of whipped cream.

Heaven.

Near the end of my writing marathon, Slovka was at the house three days a week. The moment she crossed the threshold, I amped up on her killer coffee and dove into my office to take yet another pass at my book.

My focus never wavered from my goal. I was going to prove to Steve (and myself) that I could do this thing. I could write a real book. I could publish it, too.

One day, Rodger Larson suggested I put the latest draft of my memoir through a process he called The Forest for the Trees, where he gathered a collective of beta (or test) readers to offer comment. Basically a workshop on steroids.

Sure, I said. Why not?

Rodger pulled together a crew of seasoned writer/readers from his literary tribe and I formatted the manuscript like a real book complete with a title page, chapters, and parts. I made ten copies and met with the Forest Group in Rodger’s big dining room. I only knew a couple of the people. The rest were generous strangers. Eager. Willing. Interested.

Passing out the draft, I explained what the memoir was about and included a bit of biographical information. A couple people asked questions but soon they were stuffing my book into briefcases and backpacks and saying good bye.

What a strange and disorienting feeling.

For now, I had to stop working. For now, I had to wait.

But I was itchy. Nervous. And eager to move this boat along so decided to the six week break to put out a few feelers for representation. I thought, why not? I have nothing to lose.

With a copy of Writer’s Digest, I scanned the names of all the available literary agents and the criteria for submission which included as little as a query letter and as much as fifty to a hundred pages of the book, an overview of the whole, a bio, a list of comparables (other books that my book might be like and why mine was better) and a self addressed stamped envelope for the return of materials in the case of rejection.

At first I sent five, then ten, then twenty…I wasn’t falling, I was throwing myself down the rabbit hole with no idea, none, where I would land.

(Go directly to the next post on the Blackbird journey now).

Conversation on Process:

You may be miles and miles away from a finished book but it’s never too early to create a plan for writing, refining, and finally submitting.

First time out, my process was rather “all over the place,” meaning I didn’t have a process as much as I had steely focus. I would get published. Or die trying. Period.

But you can, and probably should, be a little more chill and intentional. You can lay down your vision for completing your memoir methodically (knowing you might want to change it as you go). And your process could be as simple as this:

1. Pick a time frame for the events you want to write about.

2. Get going on the story and as you go toward your intended goal, learn how to write in a way that draws the reader close (mostly scene).

3. Write to your ending as quickly as you can (three to four months max).

4. Once done, read the whole of it, make decisions about what to keep and what to save for other books. Repeat #3 & #4.

5. How many times should you re-write before getting the work out there? Well, I used to say “as many times as it takes to make your book amazing,” but now see that’s not great advice. Now, I would say “after about three drafts” because by then, I believe you need outside readers. Too many redrafts can create mental chaos, physical exhaustion, and could lead to your making the same mistakes over and over again, which ultimately is a waste of time.

A Few Other Opinions - Smiley, King, Fields:

Your first reader should have an editorial sensibility…relatives, friends, and other novelists do not make the best first readers because they inevitably feel conflicts of interest. An educated novel reader is your best choice, possibly a novelist who teaches creative writing.  When you have your conversation about the novel you have written, direct it toward analysis rather than judgment….even if your reader asserts that your novel is a literary abomination typical of your sort of crude and unredeemable sensibility.  “Yes, but,” is your response—Yes, but what about the exposition?  Did you understand who and what the problem was? What about the rising action? Did it move too abruptly? Was there anything missing in the logic of the sequence of events? Was it repetitive or overlong? Did you understand the themes, and did they become more complex and interesting as you read? Was the climax both expected and unexpected? Did the felicities of style make you want to read on? You should be committed enough by this time to what you have done that the fires of judgment raging all around you cannot deter you from questioning the dragon. 

~ 13 Ways of Looking at the Novel by Jane Smiley

Now let’s say you finish your first draft. Congratulations! Good job! Have a glass of champagne, send out for pizza, do whatever it is you do when you’ve got something to celebrate.  If you have someone who has been impatiently waiting to read your novel—a spouse, let’s say, someone who has perhaps been working nine to five and helping pay the bills while you chase your dream—then this is the time to give up the goods…if, that is, your first reader or readers will promise not to talk to you about the book until you are ready to talk to them…You need a period of time…to rest. My advice is to take a couple days off—go fishing, go kayaking, do a jigsaw puzzle—and then go to work on something else. Let your book rest a minimum of six weeks..take it out when it looks like an alien relic bought at a junk-shop or yard sale…sit down with your door shut, a pencil in your hand, and a legal pad by your side. Read. When I’ve finished making my revisions, I show it to four or five close friends who have indicated a willingness to look at it.  

~ On Writing by Stephen King 

Print what you have written. Sit down without a pen. Read. No interruptions, no phone calls, no sudden desire to wash the kitchen floor. Zero distractions. You will notice emotional shifts: “How could anyone write such drivel? It’s the worst thing I’ve ever read. No one will care a lick about the story! I’m depressed.” 

Keep reading. 

Eventually you’ll see something working, one or two things you really like.  As you cruise through, you’ll balance into an overview perspective that allows you to see the whole in relation to the four parts. Now it’s time to think about the story. Are you explaining too much too early, how’s the set up, do your characters talk too much, have you highlighted enough conflict to make the story dramatic? Avoid the question “why” doesn’t the writing work and ask “what” doesn’t work instead.

Once done, sit down and do three essays (one to two pages long) that address the following questions via free association; throw down any thoughts, words, ideas that fit you. This does not need to flow in a logical order.  

1. What did you want to write? (What was the idea that lured you to write your story to begin with? Go back to the first creative moment that “tugged” you into this project.)

2. What did you end up writing? (How does what you have written relate to your original idea? How does it deviate?)

3. How can you get #2 more like what you wanted? (Intention to equal result. What do you have to do to change the material to be what you want it to be? Do certain characters need to be cut back, does more of the hero need to be shown? Get clear on what you have created and what needs to be done).

~ Screen Writers Problem Solver by Syd Fields

I share these suggestions because you’ll see that there are as many processes as there are teachers.

One thing I’ve learned in my all my drafting was this: I never knew my beginning until I reached the end. The first time I got to the end, I was too overwhelmed to see it clearly. The second time through, it became clearer. The third time through, I knew what to cut to make the ending even stronger. With Blackbird, I should have stopped at four or five passes, but was a crazy perfectionist. I couldn’t help myself from all those revisions.

Bottom line: Don’t write a hundred drafts like I did. That’s crazy-town. 🤪

Your turn 🎤 :

How many drafts you’ve written so far and to what effect? What are you learning in your own process? What can you offer your fellow memoir writers? Write a comment! We want to know.

~ Jennifer, 🍎