Are You Tethered to the Wrong Story?
By Guest | January 30, 2019 |
Please welcome Harper Glenn to Writer Unboxed today! Harper’s with us to share the story behind a work-in-progress, and an illuminating moment that changed everything.
Harper was born and raised in Georgia. She’s a lover of vintage brown paper, old cast iron flat irons, cracked mirrors, white sage, old cemeteries and writing dark #OWN narratives. She’s represented by Katie Shea Boutillier with The Donald Maass Literary Agency.
Learn more about Harper by visiting her website, and by following her on Twitter and Instagram.
Are You Tethered to the Wrong Story?
“Nothing ever goes away until it’s taught us everything we need to know.” It’s a cliché quote, quoted different ways, by many wise people. Nevertheless, it’s true—true in life, true while writing. But let’s jump out of the intro. And I’ll explain how holding onto the wrong WIP taught me to write the right one.
Autumn 2014, I was sitting outside a cafe somewhere in North Carolina, staring at a ginger-haired man rocking a larger than life beard. My imagination whirled. And later that night, my creative genius sat pensive behind my fingers and typed. We created a fictional character: a red-headed woman named Prue, who stalked and killed men with beards. Much like the fictional character Dexter, Prue had murder guidelines. Every man she killed must have red hair, a beard, and documented criminal cases. Prue was a librarian passionate about books, who secretly wrote a novel about her killings. Prue was my hero, a vigilante, protecting lives one cremation at a time.
“This is THE BOOK,” I’d thought. “It’s marketable. Prue’s gonna get me an agent.” She HAD to.
Because– Well, let’s go back.
Spring 2012, after completing my first manuscript, I queried over 65 agents, received over 40 rejections, garnered 10 partial requests, 3 full requests, and one R & R, but had no offers of representation. Attended my 1st writers conference: The Dallas-Fort Worth Writers Conference in Texas.
Between Fall 2012 – Spring 2014: I completed 1 NANOWRIMO, wrote 5 screenplays, and 2 manuscripts. I had 9 uncompleted manuscripts (word count ranging from 4k-25k). I queried over 50 agents, and had 12 partial requests but no one wanted the full; there were no offers of representation. I attended The New York Pitch Conference in NY. I got a few bites at the conference, but I chickened-out and didn’t send the manuscript.
Summer 2015, my wife and I separated. I stopped planning. Stopped writing. And after a year of depression, procrastination, no planning, no writing…I woke up. And wrote again.
Only things were different now. I was different; so was Prue. After my divorce, Prue became ruthless. She didn’t know why she was killing anymore—knocking-off men with black beards, brunette goatees, and yellow mustaches for no reason. And she didn’t care. Prue was a mess; I was a mess. We were two fast trains on opposite ends of the same track, and reality. We crashed. After the collision, my creative genius got into bed, hid its face, cried, fell asleep. I crawled into bed behind it, hid my face, cried, fell asleep.
Fall 2016, I woke up. I’d had a dream. In the dream, a young girl walked toward a forbidden bridge where a boy stood amazed, staring at her.
“What are you doing?” the boy said.
The girl wiped her tears. “I wanna see duh water.”
“You need to go back.” the boy looked over his shoulder.
“Why?”
“They’ll hang you if they catch you.”
I woke up electrified, with chills, excited about the world I’d dreamt about. Who was this girl? Who the hell was this boy? Who was this “they” the boy referenced? And why the hell would they hang her for crossing a bridge? Why was she crying?
This dream sparked my creative genius. But Prue wasn’t having it, she wouldn’t budge, wouldn’t stop killing. I’d grown tired of her. I wanted to kill her pages. Didn’t want to write her story. But night after night, she drove me insane—she talked, yelled, and cried, kept me up most nights, typing, dictating her mind. And so, I pushed the fascinating dream aside, and continued Prue’s story.
August 2017, I attended the Writers Digest Annual Writers Conference in Midtown, NY. Lisa Scottoline was the Keynote. At the end of Lisa’s speech, an attendee asked something about writing a book that wasn’t fun. And Lisa said something like (I’m paraphrasing): “If it’s not fun, stop writing it.”
Was Lisa, right? Could it be that easy?—that simple? And more so, if Prue wasn’t fun to write anymore, why was I still writing her? And could I really stop writing a story I’d poured so much time into…so much life into?
Returning home from New York, I was on fire. I tricked Prue; told her I was writing something for fun. That I’d come back to her story in a few days—but I never did. I kept Lisa’s words in my head and thought about the two kids on the bridge. I finished the first draft of the new story in just under three months and danced. I knew this story was different. Writing it was organic. It felt like home. It was home. And just like that, six months after I typed “The End” to the WIP about the teens on the bridge, I found an agent interested in representing their story.
Writing the wrong WIP taught me many things. It forced me to take a long hard look at the pressure to succeed I’d placed on my writing—that each story written, whether it garners representation or not, is meaningful. Writing the wrong WIP persuaded deeper writing; it gave me the courage to write characters and storylines that both scared me and bought joy.
So if you ever find yourself tethered to the wrong story, acknowledge it by accepting it for what it is, and what it’s teaching you about yourself, and writing. Allow it to help you discover the right story, the courage to write it, and later to query it. Because sometimes, writing the wrong story leads to something that’s exactly right.
Writers, have you forgotten why you’re writing your work-in-progress? What keeps you tethered to the work? Have you ever set aside a project for lack of joy, or a deep sense of being on the wrong track? What tipped you off that the story had to go into a drawer — or a fire? Do you ever think you’d revisit it? What, if anything, did the experience teach you about the fuel you need to receive from your WIP? The floor is yours.
Many thanks to today’s guest.
You can read more WU guest posts by visiting this link.
For years I was in the process of writing about my deceased father, a very complicated person. The research (old letters, diaries) taught me a lot about him, and also about myself. But the writing was very slow. One evening, while driving a car, a story-idea presented itself to me, together with a the main character. Writing this story has been my passion and joy since then, and while doing so, I learned a lot about writing craft (diving into craft books, this forum etc.). This story is fictional, born out of my imagination and totally free of all restraints (like: am I being truthful, can I be truth, will the truth hurt people that have known my father). I feel liberated writing it.
Who knows, one day I might go back to the story about my father. I might write it for my boys to read only (who never knew him), I might turn it into fiction and just use parts… maybe. But turning away from it gave me the chance to truly start on the path of being a writer.
I think I might be working on the wrong WIP right now, but am reluctant to let it go. Hmmm, food for thought… Mind you, I’d still like to read about Prue.
I think it can be hard to know if you’re writing the wrong story because there’s a point in every project where you feel bogged down in it and writing something – anything – else is more appealing. In your imagination, that other story is just perfect and the words will flow, and every day will be a joy…
I suppose you just need to listen to your gut to know whether your WIP really is a wrong story (or finish it and then decide, if you can bear it!).
I put down a WIP this past fall. I’m not sure if I will come back to it yet, some day. I still care about the MC, still want to see if I can’t tell her story well, but I felt I’d lost perspective on the overall story and was wandering around in it too much. Round and round in circles. Certainly, I’d lost the sense of fun…I don’t mind working hard and facing challenges, but there does have to be a spark of sorts, doesn’t there?
So now I am between things a bit. There are some glimmers of ideas; I sit here quietly, hoping not to scare them off. Nothing quite so potent and vivid as your characters on a bridge (YET), but I’m trusting that if I keep watching and listening (and moving my pen) I’ll find a way into the next thing.
Is/was the other WIP the wrong story? I’m still not sure. I still think about it. I’m finding some joy and play in exploring other directions for now. It can be hard to tell whether a radical re-think is running away or a strategic departure until one can see it in hindsight.
Glad to hear your WIP change worked out so well! That’s very encouraging.
Been there.
Early in my career, a long-long time ago, I graduated from category romances and set about the write the novel that was the logic next step.
It was…well, what was it exactly? Today it would be called a women’s thriller, or woman in jeopardy story. A wife with the perfect life is married to a NYC real estate developer. He is erecting the world’s tallest building. What she doesn’t know is where his money comes from–no place good. The novel would culminate on the summit of the unfinished skyscraper, with the wife facing a choice to die…or to jump.
Do some of those story elements sound familiar? The Perfect Wife (recent title). Skyscraper (recent movie). Yeah. Obvious stuff. That is because my story idea was not born organically–like your dream, Harper–but assembled as an idea; that is, a jumble of elements that I imagined would make a great novel.
I spent a year painfully searching for the right opening. I never arrived. How could it? I was writing from my head, not my heart. Lesson learned.
My first clue that I wrote the wrong story was when I queried agents for my murder mystery numerous times, eliciting a variety of responses such as yours, mostly rejections and a few partial and full requests. But two remarkable and well-known agents both independently wrote back to me and said, “Not for me, but I’d love to read your memoir”. That book was based on my real life story, but I’d turned it into a novel in the genre I most love reading, because I thought it would be more interesting and marketable. I worried that because the events were years in the past and I had so few notes, my memory would be too faulty.
Twelve years and three published, non-fiction books later, I am in the midst of my memoir. I was walking with a friend one day, fretting about whether I should write it, the problems with accurate recall and what the responses would be from real-life characters if they read it. She said, “Why don’t you just finish it and see how you feel about it then?” Such simple, clear advice!
Maybe it won’t be this fabulous work I’ve imagined in my head, bursting onto the scene as a timely bestseller. It might not even be coherent. But I will have finished it and I’ll have those answers, instead of torturing myself with the “what-ifs”.
“Nothing ever goes away until it’s taught us everything we need to know.”
Hm, I don’t think I’ve actually heard that before. Thank you!
“If it’s not fun, stop writing it.”
Also very wise.
Interestingly, I feel like my problem is often the opposite: I am a slow writer, and I know a story is worth my time when I can’t let go or forget about it, no matter how long I’ve been slogging away at it. I mean, dozens of ideas come through my head — and we all know the allure of the Shiny New Thing, right? — but if I’m still thinking about certain characters and their troubles months or even years later? Then I think there’s probably something there.
That said, I have hung onto projects when I shouldn’t have. In those cases, it has typically been because someone else (in the publishing biz) indicated interest or promise, so I felt like I *ought* to keep pursuing the story, even if my heart wasn’t really in it, or I wasn’t really aligned with that person’s vision.
On a related note…
“It forced me to take a long hard look at the pressure to succeed I’d placed on my writing.”
Oof, yes. Letting go of that pressure, and forcing myself to examine my definition of “success,” has been the most important work of the past few years for me.
I began a story, and it was all going well. But, something else was pushing to come through. It was relentless. So I saved the work I’d done and began the one that was badgering me. It has been slow to evolve, but I love working on it. It has been a lot of research and that too has been fun — the learning has been fun. I enjoy writing much more than finishing. I hate finishing. That’ because I hate what comes next — the queries, the publishing, the marketing. I’d actually be happy to stick it in a drawer when I’m done! By the way, what does #OWN narratives stand for? :)
I have this story that is overwhelming long, it has material from 4 to six books and an incredible amount of story world details. It is also overwhelming in the sense that I stopped writing it now for a year and concentrated only on writing other short stories. Now I have around 40k of shorts and plan to publish my anthology, but I still feel like going on with my series. Only that I will now and them write short stories in between
This is great and exactly what I needed to read tonight! These are all questions I need to ask myself. Thanks for posting.
Yes. Yes. Yes. My then 17-year-old daughter was the one with the wisdom to convince me to abandon the WIP I felt tethered to. I loved the story idea, and still do, but bringing my characters to life was such a struggle. I think sometimes I may go back to it in the future. It’s hard to walk away from half a manuscript. But the line “If it’s not fun, stop writing it” certainly gives me a new perspective. Maybe it a manuscript for another day…or maybe not. I’ll know if I pick it back up and there’s no joy writing it. Thank you for sharing this.