The Revisionists

I don't quite remember much about last November, other than writing. Writing late at night, writing early in the morning, writing at any time during the day that wasn't taken up with "regular life". Determined to meet the NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) challenge of beginning and completing a novel in one month, I kept at it. And, a few days before deadline, I had my 176 page, 56,500 word manuscript written.

My goal was to enjoy the holidays and begin revisions in January. Looking back, January found me busy sidestepping other resolutions (i.e. an organized den, five-days-a-week minimum at the gym, avoiding carbs as if they were toxic...). But now, the idea of some cut and slash editing is more and more inviting. I have some big changes in mind (focus on one generation of characters, drop the parallel, contemporary plotline) and smaller ones (expand the interior dialogue of some male characters, add more suspense). In my mind, it's almost like a different novel, and yet not. Just better. More focused.

It's also made me wonder about some older or deceased relatives who actually revised their own lives. Sometimes as innocently as using the prefix "Dr." for better perks when travelling. Other times, slightly changing the spelling of their names or their birth dates. And, intriguingly, some used full-blown aliases, fake addresses, and fictional occupations. (As one cousin commented, "Did they just keep 'Change of Name' forms on a table by the front door?") For those wondering why it's still taking so long to unravel my mother's adoption narrative, I could show you a list of aliases as Exhibit A.

Taking it a step further, would I revise my own life? I mean, if I could. Probably not. Most storytellers at heart know that to get from one point to another, a variety of experiences have to occur. There were some experiences I wish never happened, but I suspect they play their parts in a deeper way than I can now fathom. Only sociopaths and saints have no regrets. There's something satisfying in knowing I'd use my red pen sparingly on my life. My manuscript is not as lucky.