Bow to the (Writing) Taco
Tortilla, cheddar, beans, shredded cabbage and carrots, pickled onions, olives, salsa—last night’s dinner reminded me of advice I once gleaned from a foodie show: “Always bow to the taco.” In other words, don’t expect that mess of contents to make it all the way up into your mouth without major mishap. Tacos demand reverence. They like to be held steady, directly over the plate. If you want to revel in that medley of flavors and textures, you’d better exercise some humility.
The middle grade novel I wrote as a Christmas present for my then twelve-year-old daughter has undergone critiques from my writing colleagues, a review from my old agent, multiple readings from kids, six years of revisions, and, as of last December, still wasn’t commercially viable. I hired a New York pro to give me feedback, then let her comments simmer for five months. Finally, I took my temperature: Was this project “hot,” meaning alive enough to keep me motivated through the next steps?
The next steps are daunting. I need to change the point of view, write an entirely new beginning, create new backstories for the characters, and likely generate 25% of the book from scratch. This could be another year of work, with no guarantee of publication at the end. The book is a delicious mess of ingredients refusing to come to me. If I want the feast, I must bow to its demands.
So I spent last week journaling about the project, day-dreaming, brainstorming, mapping the plot, fleshing out the characters, and drafting outlines, all the while observing my internal responses. Was I curious? When I was away from the desk, did the story pop into my consciousness? Did I enjoy hanging out with these characters? Did I eagerly anticipate my writing time? Was I surprised by what I discovered, and delighted? Would I grow in the process?
Did I want to bite into this mess of a taco?
Why, yes!
Thus begins a humble season of revision. Fiction doesn’t come easily to me, and as I age I grow less willing to submit my work to commercial standards. I can see a moment in the near future when I don’t take massive endeavors like this all the way to publication. But for now, for the sake of romping with two kids in a magical puppet theater, I’m willing to bow down. We’ll see where those rascals take me.
–Elizabeth
