Building Bridges is Slow Work

 I’m enjoying Holly’s current series on plotting with backstory. Be sure to check out her entire series here: Holly Schindler Storyteller.

At the core of her discussion is the process of story engineering. And, in fact, connected to this is the fine art of revision. Remember that old marching song:

99 bottles of beer on the wall

99 bottles of beer

Take one down, and pass it around,

98 bottles of beer on the wall.

Its repetitive melody helps you find your rhythm when hiking trails or jumping ropes. It’s an ear worm that keeps you steady when the task at hand seems monumentally tedious. It diverts your attention from the monotony to the goal. That’s what I feel when I revise. When I finish a first draft, breathing a sigh of relief and accomplishment, I move on to the first revision. Only to discover another plot hole. A character acts out of character. First person slips into third person. Or worse, the history is wrong.

I write a blend of historical fiction and American fantasy, blending the folklore that captures the American identity with a unique form of fantasy that – I hope – captures forgotten times and personalities in American history. In fact, my first four books were picturebook retellings of forgotten lore and strong, pugnacious heroines. Remember this, Miss Sally Ann and the Panther: (Holiday House, 2012, illustrated by the great Megan Lloyd), read here by primary school teacher Shelby King. 

Illustration by Megan Lloyd

My first MG book, Big River’s Daughter, (Holiday House, 2013) begins in December 1811, when a series of earthquakes shook the Mississippi River basin. It shook so hard, the river ran backwards. It changed the landscape. Language is as important as the history during this time. In true rough and tumble fashion, the heroes of tall tales mocked and defied convention. Annie Christmas and Mike Fink – two important characters in the book – used language as wild and unabashed as the circumstance and landscape that created them and the protagonist, River. If the language isn’t correct, not only to the time and place and character, it’s time for a second revision.

98 bottles of beer on the wall, 98 bottles of beer…

The historical details are particularly important, whether it is the day the river ran backwards or a day during the Civil War. Historians work within a broad spectrum of data-gathering, dairies, journals and other volumes of primary sources. Planning and plotting resemble postnotes arranged in rainbows, Venn diagrams and flowcharts, all in the quest for accuracy. The process of writing historical fiction, like researching history, is neither straightforward nor risk-free. My second MG novel, Girls of Gettysburg, (Holiday House, 2014) focused on Pickett’s Charge during the Battle of Gettysburg. No other time in American history has been so researched, even down to the number of bullets fired during the charge. Historical fiction makes the facts matter to the reader. If you get those details wrong…

97 bottles of beer on the wall, 97 bottles of beer…

My third MG book, Barbary Chronicles: The Lost Prince, (Charlesbridge Publishing, Spring 2026) is a historical American fantasy about a rascally pickpocket caught in the middle of a dastardly plot in 1870s San Francisco. It presents a large cast of real and fabled characters, pitched as Oliver Twist meets Deadwood. I lost count of the revisions I had to make that one ready for submission.

Now I’m revising another historical fantasy manuscript. Set during the wild decade of 1870 (again), with the full expanse of the western frontier as backdrop, this story steps into lower YA territory, with a 12-year old protagonist who lives outside of time. This is the American Gods meets the wild, wild west, featuring historical figures and folk legends in some twisted fantasy that explores themes of environmental justice, messy families, and redemption. Important characters include Belle Starr, Nat Love and Bass Reeves, Lapin the Trickster, and the great Raven, and the most irreverent OldMan Coyote, along with a cast of other legendary characters in an epic showdown between good and evil.

96 bottles of beer on the wall, 96 bottles of beer…

And, don’t forget. Historical fiction and historical fantasy are some of the hardest sells today.

95 bottles of beer on the wall, 95 bottles of beer…

You know what? I hate beer. And this morning, I hate revision even more. It’s hard, hard, hard work. And there’s no guarantee that after all that blood spilled, sweat poured, and tears cried, and there’s been plenty of each, I’ll even be offered that coveted contract. So why do it anyway?

Indeed. Instead of spending all those hours writing, typing, outlining, researching, deleting, cutting, pasting, I could bake a pie. I could give my cat a bath. I could learn a new hobby, plant another garden, or two, or three…

Wait. Pause. Take a breath. I am reminded of the discussion, featured on Jane Friedman’s blog and written by Tom Bentley, Persistence Pays the Weary Writer (Sept. 2022):

 “Books are bridges. Nobody builds a bridge all at once—you build it in sections, some of which are flawed and need redoing, some of the materials for which might never be used. But bridges begin small, and with the building, can become big.”

You know, this character, for all her flaws, is getting really interesting. If I could just…

Fine. Back to work.

94 bottles of beer on the wall, 94 bottles of beer…

Roar! by Megan Lloyd

          Thank you for reading!

           --Bobbi Miller