Guest Blog by Mark Parsons

Hi, guys! Mark here, filling in for Wendelin as she takes care of some pressing writing biz. Since the primary themes here are running and writing, that’s what we’ll discuss. Running first… We’re now three weeks out from the inaugural Santa Barbara International Marathon (where “Team ETRTR” will cheerfully be representing Exercise the Right to Read!) so this morning we did our final ‘long run’ before we start to taper. Today’s run was a 20-miler, but it was relatively civilized, all things considered. Our previous long run, however, was another story. It was a hot day and we’d headed inland. Big mistake. The heat and attendant dehydration took its toll, and it ended up being more of a death-march than the fun little jaunt it should have been. So this morning we stuck near the coast (perfect weather – clear and 60 degrees out), took plenty of hydration breaks, and set a good, moderate pace that we could maintain over the distance. (Correct pacing is everything! Okay, except for a decent training program. And pre-run nutrition. And fueling and hydration during the run. And rest & recovery afterwards. But other than that, trust me, pacing is everything!) SO… all of the above-mentioned factors made today’s trot a much more pleasant experience, and we’re feeling good about the upcoming marathon. We’ll post a short ETRTR video update after event (similar to what we did for the San Francisco Marathon a few months back). And now writing… Wendelin’s been discussing her writing process here lately, and the short story here is that—while not identical—my process is pretty similar. Like her, I’m a huge believer that much of the real creative stuff actually has its beginnings in the subconscious, and the best thing you can do as a writer is to facilitate the delivery. It seems that often, great ideas come bubbling up when you’re otherwise occupied in some semi-mindless task. (Running is great for this. So is driving. And standing in the shower—especially after a long run—is about as good as it gets…) And contrary to some conventional wisdom, I’m also a big believer that talking about writing ideas can do a lot to “unstick” the creative process. My theory on this is that talking uses a different part of your brain, and verbalizing your thoughts allows you to access this otherwise-unused part of the mind. Wendelin and I frequently “talk plot” on long car trips, and it’s helped us both immensely. One area where Wendelin and I differ, however, is that she has learned to really love the rewriting process. I enjoy it somewhat (and certainly recognize its value) but perhaps I’m less evolved than she is (I’m a dude, after all) because I still prefer the “oh yeah!” moment of initial creation over the incremental improvements of repeated revisions. It occurred to me today (probably because I’m in the middle of a revision) that writing—at least, writing for publication—is actually a collaborative process. Which seems strange, because writing is often thought of as a solo creative effort. But between your initial manuscript and that shiny new book on the bookstore shelf stands something very important—an editor. And a good editor does a lot more than acquire projects and do all the admin stuff and schedule the various steps of the process like a corporate Project Manager. Good editors also edit. (Well, they do all that other stuff too, but they’re called editors for a reason.) I used to tell Wendelin she was lucky, because at least she got to see (and revise) the various editings of the various editors who have edited her various works before they went to print. I used to write primarily non-fiction, and frequently in non-fiction you send off the manuscript and don’t see it again until its edited version is on the pages of a book or magazine. So that’s sort of a one-way collaboration (which I guess isn’t really much of a collaboration at all, is it?). But with fiction, you send off your manuscript and get back (at least initially, way before the copy-editing stage) comments as to how the story might be tightened up and improved. And that’s where I am today—trying to incorporate an editor’s suggestions into my manuscript. And if the ideas were contrary to what I was trying to say in the story (or just plain lousy) then I could brush them aside and be done with it, one way or the other. But this editor is a very good one, and I can tell that her comments will make it a stronger book in the long run. But you can’t just tack things on with glue and duct tape, or you’ll end up with a literary version of Frankenstein’s monster. It requires many small additions, subtractions, and “smoothing over” of the transitions so that there are no obvious scars. So in keeping with our monster metaphor, what you want instead is more like perfect plastic surgery, which by definition should be both an improvement and unnoticeable. (Which it rarely is, by the way, which is where the simile falls apart. But you get the idea…) So here I am, hopefully learning to “love the process” as much as my wonderful wife does! And really, I’m only too happy to have the opportunity to make the revisions myself (rather than finding out what the editor’s done only by reading the finished product). So yes, it’s really a back-and-forth collaborative effort, and if done right the final result is better than it could have been any other way. That’s my take on it…