The first draft of my second novel is now complete. All 350 pages of Kindergarten Mafia are at rest until early October when I will pull them out for revision.

This month, I’d like to share something that happened as the draft of Kindergarten Mafia neared completion.

First, a bit of background: I was raised in broadcast newsrooms, back when technology came by the name of Underwood, Olivetti or Selectric. In the rock and roll radio newsroom where I first worked, we typed our stories on a large roll of paper. As I recall, the paper unspooled in a kind of carbon sandwich – light lemon newsprint and bone-coloured newsprint with carbon paper in between. This low-tech system allowed us to type once, use twice.

We literally ripped stories from the typewriter and set them on a large counter top — our line-up table. We arranged each ragged-edged page into a newscast just before we went to air.ⁱ

In the television newsroom where I first worked, the line-up was set out on a double row of eight-foot shelves angled down from the wall.ⁱⁱ This was a major advance! Some of the pages in the TV line-up contained typewritten stories in their entirety. We called those ‘live copy’. Most stories, however, were nothing more than introductions to video reports. Still, the line-up of typed pages meant we could see the arrangement of an entire newscast at a glance.

And then the technology shifted.

My first home computer was as big as a suitcase.ⁱⁱⁱ I took to it easily; except, I felt a sense of unease. I didn’t like the feeling of not being able to see all my work at a single glance. Have you ever had that feeling — that sense of disconnection from your manuscript? For me, it’s like having my work hidden inside the computer. It could be purely psychological; I usually get that feeling right around the time my story stalls for one reason or another. And that’s exactly what happened in August as I dove into the final chapters of Kindergarten Mafia.

Up until that point the first draft had been a pleasure to write. I worked from a detailed outline and extensive notes up until the final quarter of the manuscript. Suddenly, my outline seemed abstract. I couldn’t see things as well. I sat at my keyboard and plunked. I hit the writing wall. I bonked.

So, I turned to my trusted newsroom technique. I grabbed some sturdy white cardboard and a skinny black felt pen. I commandeered the dining table and created the equivalent of a news line-up for Kindergarten Mafia. I wrote rough headings for each of the final chapters and over the course of four or five hours I filled in the blanks. The process was sometimes painful, but the line-up (which grew to a total of twenty-three chapter headings) helped me with the story and pacing. I saw gaps, asked hard questions and made changes.

No more Hidden Manuscript Syndrome.

I don’t ever pine for the manual typewriters I once used. I don’t miss the rattle and hum of electric typewriters, either. And I certainly do not miss the messiness of carbon paper. But, I will continue to keep the trusty news line-up technique in my bag of writer tricks.

———————————–

ⁱ I would organize the stories according to category (such as local, national and international news) and theme (for instance, murder, mayhem and destruction).

ⁱⁱ At first we used 8 ½ by 11” carbon triplicate forms (one copy went to audio, one copy to the director and one copy went to me, the news anchor). It was a happy day when we transitioned to carbon-less copy paper.

ⁱⁱⁱ I once bought a printer that was sold to me as, “A good investment. You can use it with your electric typewriter now and eventually it will work with computers, too.” Never fall for equipment that will work once another invention gets its act together.