Hemingway and Me

The multi-part series “Hemingway” by Ken Burns was required viewing in my household. I was glad to learn he wrote every morning, liked learning that not every story he wrote worked, and listened carefully to how he incorporated material and people from his life. But I especially liked getting a look at his edited pages. Unfortunately, even on pause I couldn’t get close enough to read what he crossed out and revised.

Some years ago I was able to see an edited page by F. Scott Fitzgerald, where he changed two words. Two words? I had to believe that the page on view was close to the final edit, and not the first draft.

Hemingway’s edited pages grabbed my imagination because I have a suspicion that any page of mine that isn’t heavily edited isn’t finished, and is not worth reading. Over the years I’ve always wanted to write a perfect paragraph and then another and then another after that and on to the end of the story. But it has never happened. During a workshop years ago the leader asked us to write one perfect paragraph, which I did. It was so good in her view that she sought me out afterwards to talk. I still have the paragraph—unattached to anything else. Any effort to try to use it as the opening of a story has failed miserably. After literally decades, it sits “perfect” in its own little world. I don’t know why, but I suspect it is because the emphasis was on the writing and not the story. The character, whose presence is limited, goes nowhere because the paragraph isn’t about her. It’s about writing.

Every story I write, short or long, seems fabulous as I write it. Then I finish it and read it over, and conclude that it is unarguably horrible. So begins the rewrite. By the time I’m finished I’ve been through ten or more drafts and I’m still not confident that I’m really finished, but it seems time so I send it out. I confess to a tendency to send out a story too soon, but it gets it off my desk and makes me think about it. When it is rejected, as is most likely, I reread it and figure out a better ending. Endings are a trial for me, but if given sufficient time to think about whatever one I’ve settled on, I can generally improve it. I have greater confidence then, after messing with the thing for a couple of months, and send it out again. This can go on for quite a while, but each time the story gets better.

I tried to explain this once at a library talk. People nodded—they’re invariably polite at these events. But then I pulled out the edited pages—several versions—of the first chapter of the mystery I was currently working on so people could see what an edited page looked like. Their eyes popped open. They got it.

No story of mine is going to work unless it is revised and rewritten almost a dozen times. And after watching “Hemingway,” I’m glad to know I’m not alone among writers. 

10 thoughts on “Hemingway and Me

    1. Marilyn, I’m certainly no Hemingway either. But that’s a good list of people who are part of your process. One of the things beginning writers sometimes don’t understand is the number of people involved as we make progress in our work.

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  1. I don’t do extensive rewrites unless a critique partner, sensitivity reader, or beta reader mentions something that will make the book better. I tend to work at finding the perfect word as I write the story, or reread it the next day. Great post!

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    1. Thanks, Paty. I make a lot of changes around plot and character development. I know I’m not getting it all in the first or second draft. I envy you your ability to get it down at first try.

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  2. Hemmingway was the master of finding the perfect word out of a host of what could be called everyday words. He wasn’t into the fifty-dollar word but the right one. Then he’s string a bunch of these perfect words together to make a sentence that said it all, simply and efficiently. It heartened me, as well, when the idea of writing is rewriting was reinforced in this series time after time. While I did not admire the man in his personal life, he was most certainly one of America’s finest writers.

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    1. I agree, Heather. I do wish they’d spent more time on his development as a writer. His early years in journalism, especially his first job with the advice on using short sentences and short paragraphs, were new to me and could have been more fully explored. He wasn’t very likable as a person, however. Don’t know how his wives put up with him.

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      1. I agree on all counts, Susan. And he seemed to have married the same woman repeatedly. They all had this outdoorsy, clean look and put up with a lot.

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  3. Thanks, Kate. Yes, the setting in Below the Tree Line is Central Mass, along Route 2. The area doesn’t get the kind of attention the Berkshires gets but it is lovely in a quieter way. Both rural and a minor rust belt.

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  4. Interesting post, Susan! I enjoyed your view of the Hemingway series, which I never saw myself, and how it impacted your relationship with self-editing. I have to ask about your Pioneer Valley series: it this the Pioneer Valley that I know from travels along Route 2 to Western Massachusetts? Beautiful area! 🙂

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    1. I don’t think my reply ended up in the right spot. Yes, Below the Tree Line is set in Central Mass, along Route 2, and area mostly neglected in Massachusetts lore.

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