Wednesday Writing: Broadway High Update

A few wonderful people have read Broadway High and given me some helpful feedback, including one person who recommended I try condensing the last three chapters into the story’s climax, leaving only a little bit of falling action instead of two chapters’ worth.

For any writer friends reading this, yes, I know better than to take forever to finish the story after the high point . . . the problem is, I didn’t realize what the high point was! With my focus on resolving the romance between the hero and heroine, I didn’t identify the musical’s opening night as the big finish—the point to which the whole novel is driving (the “final battle” in archetype lingo).

Maybe other readers will disagree about opening night being the climax, but now that I’ve spent the last two weeks trying to implement her suggestions, one thing is abundantly clear: I indulged myself a little too much with resolving the romance. So it’s being trimmed a bit (but I don’t think it’s losing anything . . . there was plenty of room to cut).

Once I’m happy with this revision to the ending, and I’ve done a few more tweaks to the rest of the story, I’ll be looking for another round of beta readers. Who’s in?

P.S. Why are there no pictures online of the BHS auditorium? Instead, you’ll have to settle for Tom and Natalie: 

Wednesday Writing: Written Word Time Machine

Tee-hee . . . I have a new nickname for Tom, the nice, serial-dating heartbreaker in Broadway High. This nickname is low-brow and simple—so 7th grade and exactly what I needed, since my heroine coins the phrase after Tom dumped her best friend back when they’re all seventh graders. When it occurred to me, I felt like I was back on the green vinyl seats of the school bus, snickering with my best friend Becky. Ready for it?

Tom-Ass.

Heh-heh. (Shut up, Beavis.)

This is one of the things I loved about writing a YA book, especially one set in my own personal version of the real world. I had to claw back through my memories, force my 30-year-old brain into the thinking patterns and concerns a 17-year-old (or in this nickname’s case, a 13-year-old) would have. It was like stretching an old muscle, an adventure that often turned up things I had completely forgotten.

Even if you don’t try write much, or you aren’t aiming to write a novel or publish, try to write down a childhood or teenage memory in detail. Maybe it’s a funny story, or a difficult time, or just something that has always stuck with you. Whatever you choose, the act of writing it down somehow makes that memory come alive in a new way. Maybe you’ll realize you learned something from that experience. Or maybe it’ll just make you laugh (and make for a good facebook post). But either way, it won’t be a waste of time.

Heh-heh.