Being off my regular blogging schedule—because, I’ll remind you, my hard drive failed and I lost a lot of work—has affected me in other ways. So while my friends are faithfully supplying articles for me to post, sometimes I forget which day of the week it is. 🙂 This week, debut author Varina Denman talks about the evolutionary changes her novel’s been through.

What Do Monkeys and Manuscripts Have in Common?

Not everyone agrees on the science of evolution, but when it comes to writing, I’m a believer. Manuscripts tend to change gradually over the course of the editing process, and quite often the end result is something entirely different from the author’s original intention.

When a writer begins a fresh manuscript, be she a plotter or pantser, she usually has at least a general idea of the journey she wants her characters to take during the story. But weeks/months/years later, when the book hits the shelves, it may barely resemble the original draft.

I call this the book’s evolution.

Some writers swear their characters are alive, but honestly the entire manuscript is a living document from the moment the idea is conceived in the writer’s brain. My first novel literally breathed—swelling to a hundred thousand words, then exhaling down to seventy, and back again. As I edited and tweaked, the draft took on a life of its own, dictating to me what needed to be changed.

Much of its humanity spawned from my growth as a writer. As I read craft books and attended seminars, I would comb through the manuscript and apply what I had learned. If I were to go back and look at that original draft (I think I’ll pass), I would hardly recognize the story or the characters. I wrote the first draft in six weeks, and then took the next four years to clean it up. Here’s a few of the changes that were required:

• My story was originally set in the 1980s (For the most part, this won’t sell. Who knew?)

• My hero DIED, and the heroine had to find a second love interest. (This is against the fundamental laws of the romance genre in which I write.)

• My inciting incident and climax were not connected in any way. (Plot and structure was the toughest learning curve for me and would eventually prompt a total rewrite.)

• Many of my scenes had no effect on the story. (The pantser inside me should never be allowed to go rogue. I’m a plotter at heart.)

• Don’t even get me started on POV. (Countless blogs and books insist first-time authors MUST write in third person. Yet after switching from first to third and back to first, I discovered that a newbie author must find confidence in her skills—and experiment enough to find her voice and her strengths—so she can be bold enough to give the story whatever it requires.)

When I started my second book, I assumed I had improved to the point that my manuscript wouldn’t demand as much editing. And I was right. Sort of. At last report, the blasted thing isn’t going to take four years to repair, but so far it’s taken two months of intense structural editing from my agent, and is now under the scrutiny of my fabulous editor for several more weeks.

I find myself in the middle of the evolution process once again. So far I’ve added eleven chapters and completely changed the main character’s personality. And that’s only the beginning!

But I don’t mind all these changes. After four years of work on book 1, I no longer take critiques personally. They don’t hurt my feelings. For crying out loud, I just want someone to tell me what needs to be fixed so I can get busy and do it. I love my characters and my stories, but I really want them to find their way into the hands of readers, and I really, really want them to be captivating.

A non-writing friend recently said to me, “But those are your stories. How can the agents/editors/publishers tell you to change them?” Oh my dear, sweet, well-intentioned friend . . . believe me when I say I want them changed. Desperately. I want my stories to evolve into something better than I am capable of creating on my own.

For example, when my agent edits my work, her favorite phrases appear to be, “That’s kind of lame” and “Too cheesy” and “Just . . . no.” And by the time the manuscript gets to my editor, tons of repairs remain, and she says things like, “That plot twist is a little too convenient” and “That scene is a wee bit melodramatic” and “Might you possibly consider rewriting the ending?” And I appreciate those words more than any flattery or praise because . . .

WHAT IF I WENT TO PRINT WITH THOSE CHEESY, MELODRAMATIC SCENES STILL INTACT?

Eww. Heaven forbid.

So whatever the reason for the evolution of my manuscript—be it newbie ignorance, a slow learning curve, market trends, or just plain bad writing—this is one time I can definitely say I believe in evolution. I believe in changing my work to make it better. I believe in agents and editors and other professionals whose job is it to help me. And I believe in myself, even though my final manuscripts don’t always resemble the original.

Editorial evolution. It’s where the magic happens.

Varina Denman is currently working on a three-book Texas series, the first of which, Jaded, won the ACFW Genesis Contest for romance. (Watch for it March 1, 2015, from David C. Cook.) She lives and blogs in North Texas.

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Disclosure of Material Connection: I have not received any compensation for writing this post. I have no material connection to the brands, products, or services that I have mentioned. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255: “Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.”