Revision and other apparently irrelevant things

Official post one: oh boy, I hope I make sense.

Above is James Liang. 17. He was originally intended to be one of the characters that drove the plot to the first book in my series, The Driver Chronicles. His role was pretty simple, as the son of a high ranking employee in The Lirenzia Institute he acted as a catalyst that lead my main characters to be able to hack the Institute. Also he liked Samantha along the way. He is Clara London's best friend and in a reversal of role's while his importance to the story decreased her's increased. Still James stuck with me in my head, unrelenting, he wouldn't be forced back. I tried to change the story to fit him in, as an extra pov even. It didn't work out, the situation felt forced and though I love James I am afraid the story, or how it plays out in my mind doesn't allow him to participate much. He has an interesting back story with Katherine and Wesley but I doubt I will incorporated that a lot in the next books. Which I guess should bring me to my topic. Being a writer is easy. Being an editor is hard. Being a critic can go wither way.

I have a love hate relationship with revision. I only just finished the first book a month ago after about three years of writing on and off. the book was never meant to be serious, I never saw myself as an author.

 Here is a list why I love revision:

Its interesting to actually read the story.

I have moments of I deserve cake for being this awesome it's not even funny

The shear lunacy of my disregard for spelling and grammar in some instances.

Reading a scene and going, I don't remember writing that, 

Getting lost in my characters once again.

Fixing plot holes, redundancies and such. extra fun if you realise that most of what you have written is an incoherent mumble that was disguised as gold only by the fact you spent several times a day dreaming about your story, making playlists to accompany certain scenes and the fact that it might have made sense at the time.

You can fix all of the above after a good cry, mentos and Breaking Benjamin.

Why I hate it:

The thoughts of this will never end, i will always find something work with my work I will keep revising to the end of time and then a few minutes after.

If you follow most other writers advice and 'step away from the novel' for a couple days to a whole month (i tried it and barely survived a day) so that when you come back it is with fresh eyes. again, I barely survived a day, I went back and skimmed over words i almost know by heart and day dreaming of being published and being loved by everyone while I cuddled my characters close to the breast.

Going with the above, critisizm. I seem to give it well but it take it about as well as I take injections in my ass (chronic tonsillitis from age 8. Mandatory monthly injections with a needle as long as a tea spoon). 

Scouring through heaps of websites from similar authors like me, reading reviews to know what the audience wants. trying to define my novel for when I am ready for the dreaded queries. Sci Fi? not quiet, Romance? depends, adventure, yes, action hell yes. Mystery? in someways. Young Adult, well that is my target audience so I suppose though I do want an old dude on a train gasping out loud or balling in tears because of my novel.

My perpetual state of 'this is taking too long' and 'this isn't taking long enough (related to the first point). I am glad to say I shifted forward in that limbo, i wrote the scene that had been playing in my head for months, the last chapter.

My characters likability. i found myself reading my work and going man Sam and Wesley are arseholes! they are meant to be relatable, they have flaws, they go through change but not in the the way of progression towards healing their scars or overcoming trust issue, in fact they regress but with good reason, they become darker and stronger as they learn of betrayals. I have three novels to develop these characters it is going to be a wild ride if it took me three years to get to where i am now.

Understanding of others. honestly I wish I had more support with my writing. a critic buddy. I will get more into this if i do more blog posts after seeing how this one goes.

What a rant! Thank you for Reading.

Also, if you think the way I do and you are a writer, the characters that play in your mind are a bitch. The good kind too.

The Driver Chronicles and Other Such Things

About The Driver Chronicles:


The story is based in a fictional country called Aritira. my main characters are teenagers Samantha Winters and Wesley Black. In the first book I chronicle their lives in a post war Aritira, the challenge they face trying to be ordinary teenagers when their blood, the things the bodies can do, the intentions of themselves and others dictate the lives they lead. I struggle to encompass what my story if about, I read somewhere that if a writer is unable do this then they are not ready to be published. Conflict, the consequences of their actions and how fate seemingly plays a role in their lives. That is Driver in a nutshell. along with that is the synopsis and pitch, the initial glimpse into what a novel is going to offer. I hate that, it's like loving a colour on others but hating it non yourself because it somehow mold's itself to look ridiculous on you.

So on with the ridiculousness:

Sam
If the reality I live in were the animal kingdom, death would be a breath away; the elite would be a big cat hunting pack: instincts would mean trust; morality would be tilted according to the Drivers own axis; five exits would mean hope; the coordinators would be law and at least for me, blood would mean fear.




 Wesley
Its not an alien thought to look in the mirror and see someone you vaguely like but it is one to watch, as if from a distance while your body, your entire life in fact transforms and you are helpless to stop it and yet in somehow plugged right in along for the ride.  Sure I can't do much about healing a broken bone in 95 seconds or suddenly being able to view the world from another tangent, but I can try to find answers even if it means hurting a few people along the way.





When Wesley lands Sam in trouble-the first night at her new school no less-by refusing to lie or tell the truth, it just confirms her fears that Edwin Academy for prestigious pretentious snobs and such is exactly as her made up title suggests. She has enough problems beating 300 other teenagers with the same intentions as her; to win one of the four remaining positions that equal freedom.

To be honest though, it wasn’t Wesley’s fault that he saw the bone of his arm snapping back into place like it wasn’t broken just a few seconds ago. Really.

What Sam and Wesley eventually realise is that they have more in common than a love for programming and a uniform. Then the fun really starts.