We all have stories. True stories, made-up stories, or ones that are a bit of both. Stories we’ve written down and stories we’ve lived. Stories that make us laugh, cry, or shudder.
For writers, all of these stories are important in their own ways. The written-down ones are often just as much a part of who we are as the real-life ones.
Today’s real-life story goes something like this:
I’m writing this post in my home office, surrounded by boxes upon boxes of stuff. Boxes of junk to be recycled, boxes of toys to give away, and boxes full of things I haven’t decided what to do with.
Nearly seven years ago, I moved from Canada to Australia with my husband, one child, and few belongings. In two weeks, we will return to Canada, this time with four children and few belongings. Almost everything in these boxes will be left behind. We are starting from scratch for the second time.
Even though we’re returning home, we’ve been out of the country long enough to make this something of an adventure. We’ll land just before midnight. Maybe we’ll hold our breath just a little as we step into the brightly lit airport where my family will be waiting to greet us.
Will my parents look older? Will I look older? As we drive away from the airport, will the city be the same as I remember it? Will my children shiver in the back seat, unaccustomed to the winter weather? Will we all be wondering the same thing . . .
What does this new chapter hold for us?
Even as life’s dramas unfold, our written-down stories refuse to take a back seat.
The other day, in the midst of my packing, I found a short story I’d submitted to a writing competition about a year ago. The story reflects some difficult experiences in my life at the time I wrote it, and I believe that’s where I went wrong with it. There’s danger in writing about things that are too fresh, too raw. We become so attached to the real-life feelings—and try so hard to make sense of them through our writing—that we simply can’t trust ourselves to be good judges of our own work.
I remember that just before I sent the story in, I thought this story is not as good as it should be. I knew it wasn’t truly finished, but I so desperately wanted it to be ready, I went ahead and submitted it anyway.
It’s no surprise that I didn’t find myself on the longlist, and re-reading the story now makes me cringe. Now that I have some distance from the work, I can so clearly see its flaws.
The story may never live up to the initial vision I had for it, because I can never put myself back in the exact same emotional place. However, I can decide to take the story in a different direction. A better direction, perhaps.
Sometimes we get second chances, in writing and in real life.
Honestly, I was never keen on the idea of moving to Australia in the first place. I’m a homebody. Adventure is on my to-do list somewhere near root canal and step-aerobics class.
As we prepare to go back to Canada, part of me wants things to go back to the way they were seven years ago. I want to feel that no time has been lost, that everything and everyone will be the same. Instead, I suspect things will never be quite as they once were.
Although life won’t be the same, it can be better. I’m three-children richer and have many more years’ life-experience than when I left. In general, I like myself more. Like a character in a piece of my own fiction, I’ve become a stronger person by overcoming adversity.
You can’t identify the best ways to improve something until you can fully understand what was wrong with it in the first place. If I’d never moved overseas, I probably would never have become a writer and editor. I had a comfortable career in Canada, and had it not been for the lull in my employment when we first moved to Australia, I never would have had the time or inclination to rekindle an old passion for writing.
Though my former career was stable, it sapped much of my creativity and left me feeling boxed in. Now, as a freelancer I have the time and space to move beyond the boundaries of a nine-to-five job and re-create my life in whatever ways I want.
Moving away from home (and my comfort zone) has helped highlight parts of my former life that I wasn’t satisfied with, and has given me the life experience to know how to make changes for the better. Likewise, taking a significant breather from an important short story has helped me see the parts that need an overhaul, and that means I might be able to make something beautiful out of it after all.
Second chances are gifts.
What story do you need to rewrite?
Photo courtesy of Flickr, Candida.Performa
About Suzannah Windsor Freeman
Suzannah Windsor Freeman is a Canadian freelance writer and editor whose work has appeared in The Writer, Sou'wester, Grist, Saw Palm, Anderbo, The Best of the Sand Hill Review, and others. She is the managing editor of Compose: A Journal of Simply Good Writing and Writeitsideways.com. She lives in Ontario with her husband and four children.
Some good points, Suzannah. Often times we need more distance to see things properly. Best of luck with your move!
Thanks so much, Jeffo!
Second chances definitely are gifts. In terms of rewriting, I believe it can be an exceptional opportunity to learn and grow. I rewrote the story that would sell and become my debut–changed the voice, changed the structure, added characters and eliminated others. I rewrote portions of what will be my second book as well.
Thanks for this lovely post and reminder, Suzannah, and best of luck with your move — again.
Therese, I remember reading about how you rewrote your debut novel, and in the end it really made all the difference. Thanks so much for all you do for writers here at WU.
I loved reading this. I’ve been feeling at a crossroads in my own life and trying hard to view it as a second chance. It’s helpful and inspiring to read about your journey and how it was re-created. As for the story I’d like to rewrite, I’m only now looking back on some childhood/teen events that I’m distant enough from to really write about. Thanks for an inspiring read this morning and have a wonderful move back home!
Ah, the crossroads! I’m glad this post was helpful to you. All the best with whatever path you choose!
This made me stop to think about the second chances I’ve had in my life. A few didn’t turn out well, but most have been amazing opportunities for personal growth. Best of luck to you and your family on your next chapter, and thank you for a beautiful post.
Yes, I suppose a second chance could be a bad thing if it means digging up things you’ve already found peace with. Perhaps we need to know when to let those opportunities pass us by? Thanks!
You gave me a great idea: I’m writing a scene from the antagonist’s pov. I KNOW the antagonist will lose in the end.
But I think I’m going to write THIS scene as if I KNEW she would win. Because at this point in story time, she WILL win.
That may be just the kick it needs. She hasn’t moved back to Canada yet: I need to write her Australia part first. Thanks!
Alicia, be sure to add a good helping of spiders to the Australia bit—there certainly seem to be enough of them around here ;) Good luck!
I agree we need to step above and away from something that is simmering on the surface before we can write about it as if it is truly fiction – in fact, I think the best times are when we write what we know to be fiction and it is not our story, and then later, sometime after we have finished the work and maybe it’s even published, we read it and think, “omg – this is a nugget of me – this character voiced some deeply hidden things I never knew were ready to burst out” — that is a kind of distance, too, when that subcon/unconscious part of us reveals the hidden.
Good luck with this new adventure – adventures don’t have to be wild rides down steep mountains, sometimes meandering down that mountain is just as riveting :D
Thanks so much, Kathryn! I definitely agree that we, as authors, tend to pop up in our own fiction, even when we don’t intend to.
This struck a chord with me, Suzannah, because the last book I wrote was really a partial story of a rough time in my life. It’s been a learning experience for both me and my writing but the real life parts of it are still simmering, the rough times are not over. So maybe I should shelve the book for awhile and look back on it to rewrite it in the future. A lot for me to think about after reading your post.
Thank you.
Patti
Patricia, perhaps it’s okay to write about circumstances as they are happening as long as you recognize the work as first-draft material. Your editor self who reads it months (or even years) later will be able to judge better what works and what doesn’t.
Such a great post, Suzannah. Your point about writing a story too early really resonated with me. It’s fascinating how that happens . . . we are eager and anxious to get a story out the door, but the story is not fully cooked until the internal temp registers at X degrees.
We can’t really rush a story! Thanks for this insight, and happy boxing to you.
:)
Thanks so much, Sarah! I’m terrible for rushing, which is why I’m so thankful for these second chances :)
Suzannah,
Best wishes on your transition and I hope you and your family make the adjustment to life again in Canada. What you are saying is so true. I have three first-draft novels and I am putting off the revision process because it seems too daunting. I know that distance will give my a new perspective, as you suggest. It’s time to revisit my work. Thanks for a great post.
Thank you for your thoughts! Like you, I have a couple of first-draft novels on my hard drive. When I read them now, I can see their many faults; but, I can also see some fabulous potential in them. Perhaps I’ll rewrite them one day (when I my youngest children are a little more independent).
Terrific idea, Suzannah. Too often I think I get stuck on the real-world events that inspired a story. Writing is really an opportunity to rewrite our own stories, even to recast them the way we would have liked to see them unfold, rather than the way they did. We don’t always have the opportunity to rewrite what’s happened in our lives – but the beauty of writing is that you can always rewrite a story.
Lori, I agree! One complaint I often hear from editors is that we writers sometimes write things exactly the way they happened, rather than recognizing that true life doesn’t always make for good storytelling.
Yeah, I put Second Chances in the closet. I’m on seventh, eighth, fifteenth, twentieth chances. THEY CALL ME…….MR…….PIG, oops, Mr. Do-Over. I live, die, change, and travel through the birth canal over and over again (I flow like water). I’d be lucky if I ever stopped at second chances.
EVERY STORY I’VE EVER WRITTEN HAS TO BE RE-WRITTEN.
It’s the price of being a Padawan and listening to of all the Bunions and Jedi Masters, (especially Master Yoda), and reading people’s NOTES FROM A DESK. How could a Padawan not rewrite his manuscripts.
It’s a good thing though.
. . . and every story we’ll EVER write will need to be rewritten! Good thing for those third and fourth chances, eh? :)
In my real life right now, I can’t think of anything I’d like to rewrite. I mean, there are dozens of moments in which I look back and cringe and wish I’d said or did something different. But at the same time, I know that I learned something by those moments and in that sense I’m okay with them.
In writing…, I have a ton of stories in various stages of needing rewrites. There is a lot of work to do there. :)
Yes, those rough times in our lives do play a part in helping us grow, no matter how painful they may be. Sounds a bit like character arc, no?
Yes, indeed! :)
“You can’t identify the best ways to improve something until you can fully understand what was wrong with it in the first place.” I really like that point. I think that is what makes better stories in the future…the understanding of what we lived and the choices we made then. We can learn and grow so much from past stories.
Thanks, Eileen!
I quit writing for three years before the muse woke me up again and I went back to three novels I wrote over a fifteen-year period. I rewrote one thoroughly and found an agent and a publisher for it. The other two are surprisingly good and I’m going to find homes for them also. Time and rewrites heal all writing.
Tony, it’s so true that time can help us see our faults, but also help us recognize true strengths. I know that my first substantial piece of writing still has a lot of potential, although it needs to be completely rewritten.
This is a great post. I love it when other writers reflect. I’m sure everything will work out the way it’s supposed to. Thanks so much for sharing and good luck with everything!
I’m sure everything will work out the way it’s supposed to, too :) Many thanks!
I’m working on the last chapter of my novel. When I get tired of editing and a bit confused by my characters, I know it’s time to take a break. So here I am, reading emails and blogs for a few minutes before I get back to the hard work.
Connie, the one thing I love about short stories is that I always have several on file at once. When I get tired of working on one, I move to another. Never gets boring!
Suzannah
Thanks for your posting. I love your idea of adventure being somewhere close to root canals on the to-do list (I’m maybe the opposite : homebody is pretty close to having my fingernails pulled out for me).
Isn’t ALL writing a second chance? To think again about whatever it was inspired you to even consider writing about it?
Thanks for the reminder not to send stuff just cos you want it to be right!
And enjoy being back in Canada. I’m sure you will!
Best wishes
Caroline
I suppose all writing IS a second chance, isn’t it? That’s a good perspective to have :) Thank you!
Coming late to the conversation, but wanted to tell you how much I enjoyed this post … second, third, 100th chances. I love that the passage of time gives us the needed perspective. There are some stories that I simply could not have written 10 years ago.
It’s also amazing how much you learn and grow as a writer in a year’s time. I believe I become a better storyteller with each year that passes, so a story that I would’ve written poorly a few years ago might have more potential now.
Suzannah, your essay that included a figurative feeling of being “boxed in” while you were surrounded by boxes prompts my comment. I’ve been compiling the diary entries I wrote 50 years ago in “A 1961-65 Park College Diary.” While I re-live some of the experiences as though they happened yesterday, others have been erased entirely from my memory. I appreciate the way you have encouraged me to think of new chances to re-tell “my” stories after I finish typing my last diary entry on April 25, 2015, 50 years to the day after I graduated from Park.
Moving from Canada to Australia and seven years later from Australia to Canada – now that will be a story.
Wow, what a task, Barbara! All the best with telling such a big story!
Welcome home! And cheers to second, third, and infinity-teenth restarts.
Hooray for Canada! Can’t wait to be back :) Thanks, Jan.
As a fan of your blog and your work and your new magazine, it’s been exciting to watch you (and your family) grow during your time in Australia. Wishing you the best in this next chapter.
Aww, thanks so much, Nina. I really appreciate that.
Love this post, Suzannah! From someone who has moved many times and has bounced between states (I’m in the US), it’s never the same going back. But as you say, it’s an opportunity to reinvent your story. You gain perspective and learn what’s important.
Now to apply that to writing. :)
Thanks, Sarah. Yes, we can never REALLY go back, but new chapters can be just as exciting!
About three months ago I ran across an overly long, overly written ms sitting in cyber dust. I hadn’t practiced my craft much when I wrote the fourth draft. As a result, it was worse than I remembered, but the story had good bones.
Problem is, it doesn’t fit nicely into cookie-cutter genres. It’s a love story about two married people. Oh dear, not a romance. Can’t be married and fall in love. The woman is mid-forties; the man is nearing forty. Oh dear, can’t have her seem like a cougar.
No one is murdered. So it can’t be a mystery. Lots of security intrigue, but not enough to be a thriller.
Not erotic enough for erotica. Just a poignant love story about two people who dare to fall in love — and then do the right thing.
I can’t get ‘Annie’s Song’ out of my head. I’m in the process of cutting the flabby writing away to reveal the true bones underneath. And if my agent doesn’t like its non-genre focus, I’ll become an indie writer for it.
Thanks for reminding all of us that even something that stunk the first time around deserves a second chance through more mature, better trained fingertips.
Betsy, sounds like quite a task! My first novel manuscript is a bit all over the place, too, but I’ve always loved the concept and characters. My intention is, if I ever do get back to it, to rewrite it from scratch without looking at the original. I think this will help me retell the story in a better way because I won’t be desperately trying to keep the parts I like while trying to cut out all the parts I don’t. Good luck!
Great writing. Which short stories do I need to re-write? Jeez…Almost all of them. But I have to say that the first two pieces I published were re-writes from a creative writing class. And I followed my professor’s advice, mostly, too. I wonder if I can take another of her classes?
Though that worked out, I re-write and re-write almost obsessively, to the point that I have trouble moving ahead. It’s a fine balance between editing like you need to, and yet moving on, at the same time. I have yet to figure out when to stop editing. I always want to edit, edit, edit.
Among your list of questions upon arriving back in Canada was, “How will it feel to live right-side up again?”