Progress report

After finishing chapter 34 of my Russian novel sequel, the penultimate chapter of Part I, I tabulated up the words accrued since my last accounting. I’m very pleased to see it now stands at 306,000 words, with only 10 chapters plus the Epilogue left. I’m not quite sure I can stick to the 350,000 goal I made, but I really care less how much I end up going over. I’d rather stay true to the story I want to tell, the way I need to tell it, instead of stressing myself out about counting words and leaving things out just to stay within arbitrary limits. We would’ve been deprived of so many great classic novels had their authors been worried about going over an arbitrary number of words.

I’ve heard from so many people who say they love long books and want to see a return to the supersized novels of yore, not libraries and bookstores full of books under 300 pages. And yet the powers that be seem convinced no one has that kind of attention span anymore and that anything that goes much over 400 pages by someone new to publishing is overwritten or needs to be saved for much later in one’s career. Where is this disconnect coming from? Agents and editors are supposed to go into that field because they love books and reading, but perhaps some of them have forgotten what it’s like to read for pleasure instead of business. Not everything needs to be fast-paced and able to be read within a few hours.

I’m really seriously thinking about looking into small publishing houses and e-books, since I’m not that young anymore and I’d prefer not to waste years looking for an agent when I could be belatedly building my reputation. Were I still 20-21 as I was when I was too briefly querying a decade ago, I might be more inclined to wait a long time to find the perfect match. But now that so many people are turning to non-traditional routes to make publishing debuts, and because it gives writers more creative control, why not consider it?

There are certain things I absolutely would not compromise on. The title of my Russian novel stays, as do just about all the other titles of my other books. Perhaps the titles of the first three WTCOAC books could be changed to something a bit more descriptive and original, but other than that, I’m committed to the titles I’ve chosen. I chose them for a reason, because they meant something to me. I’m particularly pleased with and proud of the title I chose for my Russian novel, and how I used the imagery and themes of the swan mating for life and the other lovely things the swan represents throughout the book. That’s even the reason why one of the main families, whom we first meet a member of in Chapter 8, is named Lebedev(a), since lebed is Russian for swan. That’s just too important to be axed out.

I also apparently have a bit of an old-fashioned writing style, esp. for openings, judging by many of the other entries in the online blogfests and contests I’ve been taking part in. I don’t get this modern trend to start in media res, in the middle of action, instead of gradually setting up characters, the premise, and the setting. Why would I care about characters and their story if I’m just dropped right into a scene with people I don’t know and action I don’t understand? I like the old way of opening with a bit of expository narrative and getting a little introduction to the main characters and their situation. So what if some might say that’s “infodump” or “telling, not showing”? There are times where it’s more effective and more to the point to just tell the reader something, esp. if it’s near the beginning of a book.

The first WTCOAC book, The Very First, indeed opens with that kind of “once upon a time” style. Why not? That whole book is meant to be an introduction to all the characters and their general story, though it does have the main plot of Sparky trying to become a real American girl without compromising her core identity. All of Part I, bar the first chapter, consists of chapters telling the reader about each character, and then about the town, Atlantic City in 1938, Holland in 1938, the pre-dating “couples,” how these kids function as a group of friends, etc. Throughout Part I, we know Cinni is sitting at The Tuna Paurlour with Sparky, and that she’s the one who’s really “narrating” this section. We’re finally brought out of this long piece of narrative expository and back into an action-based story at the start of Part II, when Cinni looks up at the clock and realizes how long she’s been talking for. Then she and Sparky have a fun evening and night out, at the amusement park, the beauty salon, window-shopping, the movies, etc. I personally think that works for the way I envisioned the layout of the story, but I’m sure many modern-day people would tell me to entirely rework Part I so it’s not “infodump” and “telling, not showing.”

I’m actually feeling excited about going back to finally transcribe Saga I of Cinnimin after writing a new opening for it. It’ll take a little bit of work, esp. with checking the timeline against the timeline in the Max’s House books, but it’s always been one of my favorite things I’ve written. Saga I will always be my favorite, even more than Sagas V and VI, where I’m writing about peers who were children, preteens, and teens in the same era I was. It’s so lighthearted and funny, and the first half really does seem like the adventures of a female Laurel and Hardy. So perhaps that’ll be my next thing after I’m done with the Russian novel sequel and writing in left-handedness for Adicia and ten other people in Adicia’s story.