a procrastinatory post

So I've managed to submit three scenes to the online critical writing board I joined a couple of months ago. I'm getting decent responses, and it's nice that people are still reading even if they're not completely and totally carried away by it.

However.

I need the input. I do. But what's frustrating me now is that I can get completely opposite responses on the same damned scene, the same passage, the same character, depending on who's reading it. This is a given. I knew it going in on some level, but seriously, what I've been reading borders on the absurd.

Example #1: In a scene between my main character and her mother, who is dying of a terminal disease, I have had wildly varying responses – from “I think this scene is very very good and here is why...” to “This does nothing to continue the story and it feels more like a lesson.”

Example #2: One critter thinks I'm neglecting the paranormal/fantasy aspect of the story. Another critter thinks I've overdone it to begin with and is relieved to see it lighten up a bit in the third scene.

Example #3: No one seems to agree on the correct format of a character's inner thoughts. Having researched this, I have come to the conclusion that it depends on the agent reading the story; in other words, it depends on their first readers, the ones who go through the slush pile to begin with. And how the fuck, I ask you, am I supposed to know what that reader prefers? Yes, I'm going to start with the obvious and just ask the agent. Because the author that the agency represents does her work in first person. Which does me no good at all in terms of learning the ropes of formatting inner thoughts – you hardly have to do it at all in first person. Fucking cheaters. I've tried to work through rewriting in first, but I'd lose a lot. Not worth it.

Example #4: In the first scene, I make a reference to a particular pagan holiday; in the second, I refer to a fairly common practice in meditation and spellwork called “grounding.” The pagan in the group noticed that the description of the holiday was too obvious and lost authenticity, while a non-pagan went so far as to say, “I don't even know what time of year that is” although to be honest I don't think she was reading very closely. As for the “grounding” reference, the pagan knew exactly what I was talking about and didn't need it explained. Several other critters were clueless to the point of thinking I was talking about some sort of electrical work.

It's insane. It depends on the reader's expectations, on the genres they enjoy, on the stuff they think is shit.

So how do I decide what to keep and what to throw away?

It comes down to the same thing, in the end. It's my decision. It reminds me of parenting in so many ways, but this, most of all: If your kid's got a cold or a rash or a fever or is biting or not potty-training fast enough or what the fuck ever, you can call all your friends who know anything at all about kids – the moms and dads, the aunts and uncles, the kid who babysits next door; you can get as much information as you like from the pediatrician and the internet and parenting forums (eek!), but in the end, it's up to you whether you take him to the doctor, wait out the fever, fill the scrip for antibiotics, spank your kid, bribe your kid with M & Ms to get her to use the toilet (I don't know anyone who's done that, I'm just making shit up, really) and so on.

Totally. Up. To. You.

And in this case, I can get Brian's opinion, but he will stay as far away from my final decision as possible. He shrugs and says “I don't know, honey. I got no dog in this fight. And opinions are like assholes anyway.”

My husband can be a perfect idiot in some ways – there are times when he demonstrates extraordinarily bad decision-making. But more often than not, he's pretty fucking smart. I listen – mostly – and just, you know, keep the wheels straight, and write the story I need to write.

I still think I need some more sex or violence in the first thirty pages, though. Plot monkeys, do your worst!

~Andi