My Ritual for Resurrecting a Dead Manuscript

 

Back in the good ol’ days, I used to hold onto incomplete projects with the hopes that I could blow the dust off of them and pick up where I left off. It never worked. After so much time, the projects were dead, devoid of whatever spark of life used to be in them. I would eventually discard those projects, or maybe at most mine them for the good ideas buried within.

But some good things are too good to let die.

Before I took a big writing hiatus a couple of years ago, I was drafting a young adult necromancy novel. The manuscript was dark, haunting, and sinister. Not only was I having a lot of fun writing it, but I was exorcising some of my own personal demons while doing it. It was a project I didn’t want to die. Fitting, then, that I want to resurrect it.

So how can I revive it?

I think a part of it is first understanding why it died in the first place.

I stopped writing due to stressors in my professional life that spilled over to my personal. It wasn’t that I became bored of the story, or had written myself into a corner. Those two are big factors into why I would let a manuscript go. But my Necromancy WIP was well-plotted, meaning I knew what roadmap to follow, making the writing process a smoother, focused one.

Which brings me to Step 1 of this resurrection ritual:

1. Obtain the Great Grimoire

Like any writer, I have dozens of notebooks. When it comes to brainstorming and plotting a new novel, I have to do it the old fashioned way. I don’t use writing programs. I always use notebooks, simply because there’s magic when I put pen to paper.  

A blank notebook is a beautiful thing. Whenever I crack one open, a story’s potential becomes palpable. Putting a pen or pencil to crisp, white pages becomes a visceral experience as I explore ideas. At least, when I’m brainstorming. When I begin to research and plot, things become more structured, and it feels like I’m putting together an intricate puzzle.

One thing I enjoy more than structure, is chaos. Mostly because it gives me a chance to give order to it. The rush of creativity needs to be strategically reined in and formatted if I’m to do anything useful with it. The whole process makes the left and right side of my brain happy, and I just don’t get the same rush from using writing apps or programs.

Maybe it’s because I’m a tactile person. I’m not sure. All I know is the first thing I need to do is get my hands on that notebook and revisit my concepts, character outlines, and plot. I must reacquaint myself with the dearly departed, and that means rooting through their personally-assigned dirty laundry.

2. Read From the Book

My goal after familiarizing myself with the characters, world, and plot again will be to read through the first several chapters that I had drafted.

To me, the brainstorming notebook is like an itinerary. It’s full of ideas, of plot, of maps and direction. Reading the draft is more like watching the journey unfold. I want to feel out how that ride was going.

Did I like the direction I was taking?

Are the characters properly evoking what I had in mind?

Are there organic changes I made from my original plotting that I want to run with?

I know some of these things are best asked during the official editing process once a draft is complete, but revisiting what I have after so long will be me viewing it with entirely fresh eyes. I stopped writing when I was 17,000 words in. That’s not a lot if I want to go back and rework a thing a two. And what’s the point of resurrection if you can’t bring it back better than before?

3. Bring Them Back

After all of that reading, it’ll be back to drafting! That will be done strictly in Microsoft Word. I know. For all of my prattling on about brainstorming by hand being magical, you’d figure I’d be just as passionate about drafting the novel the same way.

Nope!

I prefer Word because I type much quicker than I can write by hand, and I also constantly edit. I always tend to tweak sentences to try and capture the voice of my novel. Long story short, given my writing habits, I would burn through more trees than a forest fire if I tried to draft my novel by hand.

And now that I’ve mentioned it, I most importantly want to rediscover the voice I was using for the book. Hell, or even make it stronger. For those who don’t know, “voice” refers to how the author writes, encompassing things like tone, the way sentences ebb and flow, or even points of view from different characters. Think of it like the book’s unique personality bestowed upon it by the author. It can turn the banal into the evocative. It’s the distinct difference between saying:

“John was scared of the dark walk home.”

vs.

“John pulled his coat tighter and looked over his shoulder. He swore he could see shadows trailing him. They melted back into darkness every time he squinted for a better look. He hoped it was his tired eyes playing tricks on him and picked up his pace.”

Aside from the story and characters, it’s one of the most powerful elements of a manuscript. It’s fundamentally important to have a distinct, powerful voice. Hearing the dead speak doesn’t have to be scary, but I sure want it to make your skin crawl.

Over the next month I want to see how this ritual brings my book back to life. Expect a post a few weeks from now on my adventures. I’ll let you know if I’ve brought back Lazarus or Gage Creed. Either way, it’s going to be a chilling challenge I’m up for.

Thanks for reading! 

Disclaimer: The image here isn’t mine. I don’t know who officially owns it, but this particular iteration of the Necronomicon is probably owned by Sam Raimi.