Getting back to rewriting

I left on some tangents back there, as is my wont, but don't despair, dear readers. I said I would write about rewriting, and intend to do just that.
First off, I am constantly rewriting. If I write a quick draft of a chapter or of a story, I comb through it many times before deeming it "finished." Of course, it's never finished, because, other than "The Great Gatsby," any piece of writing can be improved. But again, I digress. Before you can genuinely embark on a rewrite, you have to finish, because only then do you know the shape of your story, or your chapter, or your novel. When I'm nearing the end of a story, I invariably look to the beginning to figure out how to complete the story. Why? Because when you began the story, you implanted in the reader some questions. You made him or her curious. Throughout the story, you kept them curious. Otherwise, they wouldn't have bothered to read the book.
Finally, at the end, you have to answer the big question: what was this book about? What over-arching lesson did the character--and presumably the reader--learn? That, as I said in an earlier post, constitutes in my never-to-be-humble opinion, the theme. If you didn't implant a question pertaining to the theme in the beginning--because, for example, you devoted all your time to writing a clever opening sentence that got the plot going--then it's time to examine the beginning and see how you can implant that thematic question, too. Odds are, it's already there, and it's more a matter of refining it than inventing it. But you never know.
Once I have identified my over-arching question, and my theme, I go through the manuscript and strengthen it, perhaps moving components around, so that the revelation of the theme is as fresh to the reader as it is to the characters.
But rewriting, of course, is also about sharpening the characters.
In Secret Spy, Terrence Tillberry is an FBI agent who falls in love with a KGB agent in 1982 Los Angeles. He's based on a real guy, as I may have said, who was described by one detractor as "lunchy," because he--and this is true--always ate a lunch of pastries, etc., acquired from the local 7-11.
I expanded dramatically on this trait. Terrence Tillberry eats nothing but Hostess products: Twinkies, Ding Dongs, Ho-Hos and the like.
In that the FBI is a pretty selective organization, I had to justify why a guy with such little will power ever got hired. Nepotism seemed like a good idea, so I invented Terrence's Uncle Martin, who was an FBI agent, and put in a good word for Terrence.
In the rewrite, I took it deeper. Uncle Martin took Terrence under his wing when Terrence was a child. He was overweight, and afraid of being teased. Terrence confided in his uncle, who bought him a set of weights, and generously guided him in losing weight, and gaining confidence. The nepotism also brought a flavor to the book: Terrence was resented by his boss as a result of it.
I won't go into all the specifics of the story--I want you to buy the book when it's published--but the way this "character arc" (to employ a hackneyed term) evolved was fascinating to me. When I began the book, all I knew was that Terrence was fat, and slovenly. I used that as his identifier, and ultimately it expanded to really define and humanize him. He became a real and sympathetic character, who was neglected by his harsh father, and was teased. His kind Uncle Martin consoled and encouraged him, and inspired him to join the FBI. When he is "bullied" by his boss, due to the perceived nepotism, he reverts to his former self, seeking comfort in food.
First off, I never would have arrived at any of the revelations about Terrence's motivations and history had I not completed the story. Secondly, now that I know them, the understanding make every element of the story richer.
And it's still a comedy, folks, so don't think I've gone all mushy. Trust me, there are laughs aplenty. But I have to finish the rewrite before the public can really enjoy them.

Theme

When you're writing, the theme of your piece can seem very elusive, and perhaps inconsequential. But, as poet William Carlos Williams said of the Red Wagon, so much depends upon it.

But that doesn't mean that you need to know the theme up front. In fact, in writing Secret Spy, I truly had no idea what the theme might be when I began. I imagined that after forty or fifty pages it would start to emerge, but that didn't happen. A hundred pages? Nope. Two hundred? Still not there. As I wrote the last paragraph of  the epilogue, which centers on the experience of Tom Huttle, I still didn't have a theme. I wondered what Tom Huttle might think as he looked back on all of the twists and turns of the story. "You never know what's going to happen," Tom thought. "So you just keep going."

I had my theme. It hadn't become clear to me literally until the last sentence of the book, but I knew it was right. How did I know? Because it had been played out within all of Tom Huttle's actions in the book. The theme is nothing more, and nothing less, than the controlling idea of the book. Now, beginning the rewrite, I KNOW what that controlling idea is. For a character, a theme is something like their life philosophy. They may not, in fact, be able to articulate it, but it operates in the background. For example, in life, if someone believes they always get a raw deal... they always get a raw deal. Objectively, they may get some very good deals in their life, but they aren't capable of seeing that. The "raw deal" becomes their theme. In fiction, themes operate much the same way.

The theme of my book Huttle the Hero was "If you suppress your imagination, it will control you," also featuring Tom Huttle. Tom was quite unaware of this for most of the book, but the idea plays out in myriad ways throughout the story. By the end, he understands it quite viscerally.

I think that, in a story, if your characters are authentic, and if they operate according to coherent motivations, striving toward goals in a way that is true to them, and encountering and dealing with obstacles in a likewise coherent manner, the theme will emerge. Why? Because, unconsciously, you are imposing on the narrative your own life's philosophy, and your own values and view of the world. Call me kookie, but in this way all books are autobiographical. I, for example, have been thinking a lot lately that in life one never knows what is going to happen, and that even so, you just keep going. In some sense, it was not a big surprise that this should reveal itself as the theme to Secret Spy... but then again, it was a shock. I truly had not grasped how I was on imprinting my philosophy on every page.

So, now that I know what the theme of my book is, what am I going to do? I'm going to go through the book and make sure that Tom and the other characters are living consistently within that theme. Some characters may take a different aspect of the theme, of course.

Finding that consistency in theme requires you to start at the beginning. As the story of Secret Spy opens, for example, Tom is at a crisis point in his life. He's unhappy with the status quo and decides to take a leap of faith and do something different. He takes a leap of faith. He does not know what will happen. By the end of the book, owing to the experiences he has had, he, along with the reader, looks back at what has happened and realizes that "You never know what's going to happen in life, and you just keep going." By then, Tom has reached many points where he didn't know what was going to happen. He just kept going, and when he looks back at it, he realizes he did the right thing. In other words, he learned this lesson as we learn all lessons: through experience. The reader has been with him during these experiences, too, and consequently has learned the same lessons.

Maybe you don't know the theme of your book. It is there, however. Try doing what I did: take the point of view of one of the characters and ask him or her: what have you learned? Their answer may very well surprise you, and lead you to the theme.