Crash – It’s a wrap!!!
Around 4 in the morning today, March 05, 2009, I have finished writing the next Not Quite Unreal novel, “Crash”. As I’ve discussed before, I actually wrote an ending the other night, but because I was subconsciously unhappy about it, I couldn’t sleep until I’ve written a new one.
Upon analysis, I think my problem with the first ending I came up with is that it was too lame. It’s a very safe, very F.Sionil Jose type of ending, with the character sitting down to “epiphanize” on the recent turn of events, so that by the time he stands up from where he is sitting down, his character has now “developed”. I don’t know what force of bad taste compelled me to opt for that sort of ending after laboring for quite some time on “Crash”. I took a lot of pain developing the characters, orchestrating them to form the plot, and then, I ended it with an “epiphany” that made the Not Quite Unreal-verse a better world.
So, I challenged myself.
What if… what if the character has an epiphany but it’s not the sort of “realization” that readers are expecting from a work of fiction? What if the events that happened in preceding chapters changed the character not for the better, BUT FOR THE WORSE?
And there it was. The ending that I was looking for.
It is a better ending. Not because being evil is more interesting, but because it’s very human– it’s flawed, it’s raw, it’s convincing. In a perfect, idealized world, our experiences will make us better persons. But if that’s true, then there won’t be any suffering in the world now, will there?
So, there. The new ending is not a happy one, but it’s not tragic either. It’s hard to categorize it in those two terms alone. The ending is… explosive. Not happy, not sad, but certainly not SAFE. It’s a very challenging ending because I don’t want to end on a cliffhanger, I want “Crash” to be a solid novel, like “Roles”. So, yeah, I promise you, there’s no cliffhanger in “Crash”.
Having said that, I guess the ending promises MORE for the next installment. And I like it as a writer because it poses a challenge for me to solve. As I’ve told you before, I already have a plot idea for “Dirt”, where I’m going to take the story next, but then, with this new ending, I’m going to do some re-thinking. It’s fun, really. And I suppose, if the writer’s not having fun, the readers can’t either. So, there.
Although I’ve “wrapped productions” for “Crash”, I still have a lot of work to do. I’m taking some time off so that when I pick up the manuscript again after a few days or so, I’ll be seeing it with fresh eyes. I’m also showing the manuscript to two people–one is my sister, the other is a friend whose expertise in critical theories I personally hold to high esteem. Once I get their comments and feedback, it’s back to work for me, as I go into “post-production”– editing, re-writing, re-editing. Then I giftwrap it nice and tight for my publisher.
“Post-production” is the easiest part of coming up with a manuscript. It’s also the most boring. Here, you have to force yourself to read and re-read what you’ve written. After some time, you get so bored with your own work, it loses its charm. But as I’ve said, this is the easiest, and it will be easier still if you can get someone to proofread it for you (but you have to pay them, all right? don’t rely on the kindness of orgmates, or your students). Mass published authors like myself, we get the luxury of having our manuscripts go under the scrutiny of our editors, so actually, we don’t have to, but I think it’s really, really bad taste to submit a manuscript to an editor without first doing the best you can to make it sound impeccable. Don’t worry, your grammar will always have flaws, but you need to KNOW when your grammar is wrong for stylistic purposes, when it’s wrong because you didn’t now better, and when it’s wrong because you’re lazy. When it’s wrong for stylistic purposes, and you do it masterfully, then hooray for you. Your grasp of the language can be called ‘natural’ and effortless. If it’s wrong because you didn’t know better, then that’s still forgivable. No one knows everything all the time, except, maybe, Lolit Solis. But if it’s wrong because you’re lazy, then that’s really really really crass, unforgiveable, and you should be condemned to a lifetime of working for Boy Abunda.
Usually, I yield to my editor’s judgment. It’s really their call when it comes to proofreading me. Sometimes, I get so caught up in replicating dialogues for authenticity that I forget that what’s authentic is not always coherent, and not so to most people. Sometimes, I come up with a line or so that makes absolutely perfect sense to me, and then I get a comment from my editor telling me to look for a better way of putting it, and of course, there’s always a better way of putting it.
However, there are times when I hold my ground and insist on a particular way of phrasing or describing something, and that’s my call as the creator of the material. For example, if i’m being deliberately vague about the physical descriptions of something or someone, then that’s because I have a reason for doing so, probably because I’m keeping the audience in suspense, or I’m timing the revelation to occur at a more effective time. When holding your ground against your editor, it’s best to explain your intentions, your reasons, your justifications. You can’t just go “just trust me, I have something planned” because that sounds shady, and immature.
When dealing with editors, I usually keep in mind that these wonderful people are professionals I can rely on, but shouldn’t depend on. They’re great, they’re amazing, but that doesn’t mean I should abuse their kindness and write blindly with as much grace as a wrecking ball. You are responsible for your craft and your creations, you give birth to them, you raise them. As the author, your works are your babies. Editors are their first school teachers. They’ll look out for the best interest of your kids, they’ll guide you on how to bring out your kids’ potentials, but you can’t ask them to change diapers for you. You have to deal with your babies’ shitty diapers. You have to wipe your babies ass clean, and when it’s a boy, take the occasional pee in the eye. Similarly, teachers can suggest some tips on how you can dress your kids to make them look snappier, preppier, but they can’t go as far as telling you how tall your kids should be, or which skin color, which religion, and gender preference, your own children should have. That’s a matter that should be between you and the product of who you are–the manuscript.
The “production” process is the worst. It’s the hardest part. I wish I can tell you it’s the most fun, but it’s not. It’s the hardest part of writing. It’s demanding, it’s taxing, it’s lonely. It can get exciting, especially when you’re discovering things you’ve never thought are part of your story, but really, it’s the dirtiest part of the whole writing thing. You’ll get doubts, you’ll procrastinate, at some point you’ll wonder if it’s even worth finishing.
“Pre-production” is the fun part, and this is also where most “writers” stop. This is the part where you discuss in your head “The Story”, that idea you must flesh out in words, scenes, characters, plots. You get all these bright, brilliant thoughts in your head about the most awesome, the most fantastic of premises and twists. It can get so exciting that doing the actual work will kill you in boredom.
So, as a writer, these are the things you should consider. Also, your contact lens drying from staring at the laptop screen too long. So, all right, bye. Thanks for enabling me.
Yours,
Carlos Malvar.
Also, I made a novel that I want to have critiqued…