The Point of No Return
Well met, readers! We are so deep into fall now that it’s almost like we skipped right on into the dead of winter. Anyone else feeling extra chilly all of a sudden this November? Good time to get cozy and put yourself in front of a book, whether that means writing or reading one.
Okay, so I promise I won’t make allusions to climate change in the intro of every blog post, but damn, it’s way too cold and the leaves haven’t even changed yet. Anyway, it’s that time of year again—NaNoWriMo season! Godspeed to all those participating, I hope your word counts have been extra thick thus far as we come upon the halfway point. For those new here, I’m not participating this year, but I am currently in the middle of revising a novel that I first completed as a NaNo, so I know how it feels! It’s a daunting process, especially as one crests upon the halfway mark—not only do you have to make it to that proverbial point of no return, but then you have to be brave enough to look back at how far you’ve come and commit to doing it again. It’s certainly no easy feat.
With a little bit of luck and the right stressors of my own, I somehow managed to reach my own halfway point with a couple days to spare—perfect timing for a blog entry to reflect on the mess that’s been thus far made and prepare for the messes yet to come. But first, ye olde updates:
Despite Halloween activities, I somehow managed to reach all goals for October, which I wasn’t really expecting. I typically set goals a little over what I think I’ll actually manage—couldn’t say if that’s a healthy practice or not, but that’s just how I do it. Goals were set a little light for October, but essentially my aim was to comb through act 1 of Codetta, which involved a combination of line editing, plot point shifting, and a healthy bit of redrafting. If I managed to get that done with time to spare, the plan was to then shift to wrapping up the comic script I mentioned in my last blog update. I’m happy to say I got both complete with enough time to enjoy Halloween. Uncertain if anything will come from the comic, but it was nice to complete something new! Can’t recall for certain, but I think that it was the first comic (more than just a single page or so) I’ve written since early college. Would very much like to do it again—let me know if I have any artists in my readership that would like to collaborate!
As I mentioned, I’m at the halfway point of my current and hopefully final pass of Codetta—right square in the middle of the slog that is act 2. Does it seem to you that second acts are the most complained about segment? I feel like I hear that the most from creators and audience alike, unless of course the ending sucked, which will typically garner the most criticism—but act 2’s always seem to get the most critique following that, especially from the story’s own writer. I’m not certain why that is, but I can wager a few guesses.
I think one of the main reasons for second act angst is because the expectation of both acts 1 and 3 are so clearcut compared to an act 2. Like right now, what is your first thought when you think about a second act? The first word that pops into my own head is simply “middle”, and if I had to guess, I would imagine it’s the same for a lot of people, as when we talk about three act structure in school or what have you, there’s not a whole lot else said of the second act besides that it connects the beginning and end.
Second acts also tend to be the longest section, or at least conventional story structuring wisdom would suggest as much. While I’m trying to grow beyond my own hyper focus on beat-perfect structure, I do believe there is a lot of reason in the old adages that a second act should be roughly twice the length of the first and third. A lot of my problems with Codetta were in the second act, and my still-kinda-new-at-this writer’s brain identified the disparity in my word counts between the three acts as one of the major problems with the pacing of my novel. While I’m trying to elevate myself from a word count obsessed mindset, I do think sorting out the relations the acts have to each other, both in length and content, was a smart decision on my behalf… Well, at least until I hit my most recent roadblock.
For November, my goal was to get make all the necessary changes to act 2 of Codetta, so that by December I would only need to worry about the shorter act 3 and be done before the turn of the year (no old shit in 2020)! I was making great progress during the first half of the month—I would like to thank NaNoWriMo for conditioning my brain to treat this month as a heavy productivity month—even finished the first half of act 2 a few days in advance. But then, I realized something: basically there were a few problems with the previous draft of Codetta that I was aiming to solve with this draft; one such problem could have been fixed by making a simple scenery change in the last act—however, this would not do, as it would have compromised my uh… vision, or whatever. So instead of making the simple, one chapter change, I elected to overhaul a larger set piece in order to keep the aspects I wanted to remain in the book. I was on track for making this change as smoothly as possible right up until I finished editing the midpoint and realized I had written myself into a brand new plot hole. This should be a lesson to everyone: don’t overthink shit, as overthinking shit causes you to write holes into a book that was initially written beginning to end years prior.
That said, I’ll do my best to summarize my own bit of advice on middle segments. Essentially, second acts are all about connecting key plot points and maintaining movement between them. It can be a little predictable to the well-honed writer, but if you’re really sweeting your second act, think of one major plot point to put right in the middle of act 2, and make sure it’s something that will increase the stakes from the first half of the act. I like to think of the first half of act 2 as simply “the stuff”—the stuff in this case being what the audience signed up for, the main meat of the book, essentially; if it’s an adventure book, for instance, this is where the adventuring happens. Then, I like to think of the second part of act 2 as “the stuff but spicy”, meaning the stakes have been raised, or perhaps our understanding of the characters or the world, has been flipped around. More or less, you’re just doubling down as you close in on the third act. To anchor the path to and from the midpoint, you can include one semi-major plot point or moment of heightened conflict in the middle of the first half of act 2, and another, even more compelling point in the middle of the second half. Experienced readers may see through this pacing, but it will get your where you’re going regardless, especially if you’re still a little green like me. Most importantly, however, you have got to end act 2 in a way that sets up your final act to be the most intense—which typically means royally screwing over your heroes right at the act break. Both your protagonists and your readers need to be utterly desperate and almost entirely hopeless in order to make act 3 have the most weight. If you can approximate these steps, then your second act will hopefully be less of a mire to blindly wade through until an ending eventually appears on the horizon.
Anyway, I decided to give my brain a couple days rest while I mused on a solution to my previously mentioned plot hole, thus giving up the few day head start I initially had. During this couple day rest period, I made sure to keep flexing my creative muscle in other directions in order to keep it from getting lazy. I’m happy to say that of this writing, I have almost cracked a solution to the new problem I created for myself. So, another lesson here: even if you got deadlines, it’s important to remember to allow yourself rest! Without rest, our brains can’t recharge and strain to produce that good stuff, so don’t skip out on it. Sure, taking the time off from the grind might mean I don’t meet my November deadline, but then again, I may have a better shot at it after assessing the problem and giving myself time to formulate a solution. What matters is that it will get done, and done in a way I can be proud of. What’s important is just to keep moving, even if you have to redefine what progress means at different steps of the journey.
Well, that’s all I got this month, gotta get back on the trail now after that much needed reprieve. Whatever happens with this dumb book, I think I’ve learned the lessons I was looking to learn… Well, more than learned them, lived them thoroughly enough to get them through my head. Regardless if anything decent comes of it, I don’t think I’ll be the same sort of creative once this exercise is done… Does that sound ominous? I guess being overdramatic is a part of the process. That said, godspeed to all you decent folk working on your NaNos or whatever project you’re currently facing in your life—don’t forget to stop, take stock of how far you’ve come, and utilize all that you’ve learned on the way to the finish line to end strong! It’s all downhill from here.
As always, thank you for reading, and never forget: You! Got! This!
