Recently, I have been in discussions with the editor of Andromeda Spaceways Inflight Magazine #63, Terry Wood, regarding my story scheduled to appear in it, ‘Teething Problems’. He asked me to revisit the ending, which he felt did not have an impact equivalent to the events that preceded it.
I’ve long prided myself on not being a ‘precious’ author; I was more than happy to rewrite ‘Unreal Estate’ for Dark Moon Digest, for instance, and in the past I have completely ripped apart and rearranged stories on the suggestions of slush readers. In every case, it resulted in a superior (and usually publishable) story.
I did get a little precious about ‘Teething Problems’, however; not just because I felt it was one of the best things I had written, but because I had devised its downbeat ending with a clear theme in mind. Terry, to his credit, was respectful of my concerns and countered with a cogent argument spelling out why it didn’t work.
He was right, of course (good editors usually are), and a short while later I conceived an alternative ending that retained my highfalutin* thematic posturing while providing a more satisfying climax for the reader.
In my experience, it is rare that a story with a robust concept is ‘unpublishable’. Often it is a matter of finding a new perspective and then rewriting (and rewriting) until the story becomes a gem instead of a lump of rock. Even things relegated to my ABANDONED folder have often been rescued with enough time, thought and effort.
But once in a while, a story is just broken. Sadly, yes, I have an example.
About a year ago, I attempted literary a piece called ‘One Windy Day’, inspired by an unpleasant true-life incident. When it was finished I thought it had real thematic weight to it, but on the first read over I discovered the opening paragraphs were flat and charmless and the tone was a dog’s breakfast.
In the subsequent months I rearranged it, rewrote it, changed the narrative from first to third-person and even gave it a different working title. None of it made a scrap of difference. A car that has square wheels is never going to operate smoothly, no matter how much you tinker with the engine.
I suspect the fundamental problem with ‘One Windy Day’ is that I broke my own golden rule: I let the tail of theme wag the dog of story. Although ‘Teething Problems’ has many things to say about warring ideologies and the human condition, I started writing it for far less pretentious reasons (which I will go into when the story finally appears early next year).
* I’ve often wondered about the origins of this pungent American word, so while writing this post I decided to look it up. Click here if you’re interested in an explanation.