Revision Breakdown Part 3: Doing the Deed

Making notes on the hard copy of my 2020 book

So, remember how last summer I was working on a series of blog posts about my revision process? I got two posts into that three-part series and then got busy, and... um... never finished. Oops.

Since it's better to post a year and a half late than to never post at all, here is the final step in my personal revision process! You can refresh your memory of the earlier posts if you want:

Part 1: Writing my own edit letter
Part 2: Mapping out my story

Once I've mapped out my story and written my edit letter, I break my revision down into manageable chunks.

The way I break a manuscript down really varies from revision to revision. Typically, I start with the big things first—the "plot changes" or "big changes" from my self-made edit letter. I prefer not to start with smaller details, because sometimes the bigger changes might alter things enough that my original list of smaller changes is no longer accurate.

For some revisions, I read chronologically through the book from beginning to end, working each chapter to make several big alterations. (This, for instance, is what I did with my second book with HarperCollins; by the time I got my edit letter from my editor it had been about a year since I'd worked on that book last, and I had enough big-picture changes to make that I knew I needed to read the whole manuscript as I worked.)

For others, I take one big change at a time and go through the whole manuscript working for places to implement it. This is how I revised Where the Watermelons Grow—I'd read it fairly recently and had a fairly clear idea of where I needed to make specific changes.

I often do a lot of back-and-forth-ing as I work on these big revision passes; a new scene here means altering an older scene to be consistent, etc.

Once I've worked my way through my whole list of big changes, I turn to the smaller ones. (Sometimes—when I have a LOT on my revision to-do, which is not uncommon—my lists are split into "big," "medium," and "small," and I go in that order, from big to small.) Often, these are changes I can implement using tools like the "find" feature in my word processor—searching for specific keywords, overused phrases, or scenes I know I need to change but can't remember what chapter they occur in. For instance, if I've decided to get rid of the references to a specific school, I can search for every time I use the name of that school and then rework the paragraphs around that mention.

This part of revising is by far the least set-in-stone, most intuitive portion. Often, I base the way I'm doing it on what feels most organic or least intimidating to me. For me, starting a revision inevitably feels like standing on the high dive, afraid to make the leap off; I try to begin with whatever makes that leap the least scary, or whatever I have the clearest vision for.

I typically don't work down my to-do list in order, either—I address points on the list in the way that feels the most natural. Often, different points on my list are related to one another, and I'll work on all of them in tandem before moving on to less-related issues.

For especially big revisions, I might end up reading through the manuscript beginning-to-end twice. With my second book (out in 2020), I read through on the computer as I made my big changes, and then printed the manuscript and read through the hard copy after I'd finished, so that I could have a better grasp for the rhythm of the language and find smaller line edits that needed attention.

When I'm working on a revision, it always, ALWAYS feels like my book is turning into Frankenstein's monster, an unintelligible mishmash of old and new writing that feels completely doomed to being terrible. No matter how incoherent it feels when I'm working on it, though, I always find that the manuscript is much, much stronger when I'm done!

And the Winner Is....

So, remember how I said results would definitely be posted by 9pm PST tonight? Well, I looked at the calendar while scheduling that and thought, "hmm, we have parent-teacher conference that night AND that's laundry-folding night... Hopefully I won't be too busy!"

Reader, I was VERY busy.

But now here I am, belatedly! And I'm pleased to announce that the winner of this year's pumpkin carving contest, by a total of 57-36..............

Pumpkin B!

If you've followed our contest long, you'll know that Mahon has only won a handful of times in our 12 years of doing this. In fact, a couple of years ago he was feeling so dejected about it that there was real talk about ending the contest for good. But I think he's feeling pretty good about things right now, since he is, in fact, the carver of Pumpkin B, making this his second victory in a row after last year's masterful Te Ka pumpkin.

And I can't fault him for the win—this curcubit creation is pretty incredible, and probably one of me favorite pumpkins ever to emerge from the contest. It's pretty cool, seeing my Della reading in her playhouse!

Congrats to this year's winter, and thanks so much for voting! We'll see y'all next year.

Cast Your Vote in the Twelfth Annual Pumpkin—Um, Curcubit—Carving Contest!

It's everyone's favorite time of year—you know, when we're all spending our time poring over candidates, trying to figure out which option best typifies our values, and heading to the polls.

That's right: It's pumpkin carving contest time!

For the first time ever, this year's pumpkins ended up getting rescheduled until after Halloween, thanks to a combo of complicating factors. But better late than never, and here we are, with this year's candidates!

This year's theme is one we've had in mind for more than a year. In honor of Where the Watermelons Grow being released this summer, our pumpkin carvings are everything Della Kelly (and friends). This time, in honor of our theme, we even have an extra-special addition to one carver's entry. We actually REALLY tried to find full-sized watermelons for us both to carve, but alas: there are no regular watermelons to be had for love or money in November, so pumpkins it (mostly) is.

As always, all descriptions are written by me, and all photos are a joint effort between us both. This years rules, as in previous years, are:

1. Just ONE vote per person... no cheating! If you don't have a Google or OpenID account and so you're voting anonymously, make sure to sign your vote. Unsigned anonymous votes may be deleted. You can also cast a vote on Instagram or Facebook, as long as you keep it to the official pumpkin carving contest thread on those platforms (it gets too hard chasing votes across multiple threads).

2. DO NOT reveal who carved which pumpkin! If you suspect that you may know which pumpkin was carved by whom, DO NOT share that information in the comments. Any comment that tries to spill the carver's identities will be quickly deleted. (Also, we really DON'T recommend attempting to guess whose pumpkin is whose. In the past, guessers have tried to swing the vote for one person or another, and guessed wrong, with disastrous [but hilarious] results. So really, just vote for which pumpkin you actually like better and leave it at that, okay???)

3. Get all your friends and family to cast their votes too! Share on social media! Bug your co-workers!

First up! Pumpkin A:

...through the window to the backyard I could see Miss Tabitha. A cloud of bees swirled around her, so many bees that the ends of her blond hair lifted in the wind they made. She wasn’t wearing one of those white space suits beekeepers are supposed to put on to protect themselves from stings—but she didn’t look afraid, not one bit. She looked... at home there, in that storm of bees...

(Where the Watermelons Grow, page 200)

Central to Della's story in Where the Watermelons Grow is the famous Quigley honey, responsible for mending the wounds and woes of Maryville for generations. Whether it's healing a baby with pneumonia, fixing a broken heart, or mending a family feud, the Quigley honey has the ability to bring out strengths inside you that you never realized were there. In their pumpkin, Carver A has used careful shading and exquisite detail to evoke the mystical, magical nature of the Quigley honey threaded throughout the book—reminding the viewer that magic is always so much closer than you think.

Pumpkin Curcubit(s) B:

We’d built it last summer, right by where the curve of Hummingbird Bay met the edge of the Hawthorne farm, and both our daddies hated it because we’d made it ourselves out of old plywood we scavenged from the supplies my daddy used to build our chicken coop last year. Before that we’d spent years playing in an old tobacco shed, but the playhouse was better, because it was made with our own hands.

(Where the Watermelons Grow, page 56)

In a true stroke of genius, Carver B has chosen to incorporate an actual mini watermelon into their design. This carver has used the watermelon to depict Della's beloved playhouse, where Della sits, lost in a book—quite possibly the very Emily Dickinson poems that teach her how to hope when she feels all hope is lost. The watermelon is set into a pumpkin, into which a window is carved with curling watermelon vines below and swaying tree branches above. Of special note is the color contrast provided by the interior of the watermelon against the pumpkin—definitely an effect we've never seen before!

Voting will close by 9pm PST on 11/7. You can destress from the actual election by watching these results roll in just one day later.

Postscript: You can't vote for this one (any attempts to vote for it will be rejected!), but we figured we'd share, anyway! Kate's design this year is a "cheetah underneath a rainbow."