Writer Editor

Writers don’t write as much as they edit.

It’s a odd statement but it’s also true. When I’m really writing, I’m basically spewing the story out onto the page.  I love that part, constantly playing a game of what if, knowing that I have to get these people to do certain things and then wondering why they don’t do them, and trying to figure out how to get them back on track.

But after the story is down, there’s still so much work to do.  The editing.  I reckon I take 4 to 5 times longer to get a book edited than to write the thing in the first place.  The editing is all about getting the story right. Making sure that it flows, is sensible and everything works.  It’s polishing the sentence structure and ensuring that the correct character does what they need to when they need to do it.

Then it’s running through the various writing checkers for spelling and grammar and all the other technicalities.  Only then can you send the manuscript out.

And it it’s accepted, it will invariably come back with more edits to do. Writers write, but they spend an awful lot of time editing too.

Want to Write a Privileged White Male – Part 2

Okay, so here’s Part 2 in which, as promised I share some of the things men have said to me that just go to prove their PWM standing, though in some cases it’s more a case of just sheer stupidity, I’ll let you decide which is which.  Of course, there are levels of PWM extremism which is why I’ve given two definitions in some cases, also remember, some men are like this because they don’t know better and some are like this because they believe that they already know best.  Don’t cast them all in the same depth of shade.

What he says	What he means
You seem to have misunderstood …	You’re wrong and it’s your fault
I didn’t intend …	It’s not my fault
… it’s a longstanding trademark…	And I’m not going to change
… my lack of protocol is legendary…	I’ll do what I want regardless
… I wasn’t bypassing you …	I can’t see it so it can’t matter OR I was, and I don’t care
… I suppose this is typical of me …	I’ve no intention of changing
I’ve never experienced…	Therefore, it didn’t happen
I haven’t seen that	You made it up
It’s just me being me	You must make allowances OR I don’t see why I should change
What you need to understand is…	Your tiny female brain can’t cope with the big male facts
Don’t worry your pretty little head…	You’re a bimbo with no brain, let the big clever man take care of things
It’s not equality they’re looking for, it’s female privilege	How dare any woman think they’re as good as me OR I’m higher up the ladder than my skills warrant and I’m under threat.
… shouldn’t dress provocatively.	It’s women’s fault that I can’t control my sexual urges
Why Privileged White Males? Isn’t that racist? If I posted about … I’d be banned	You’re discriminating against me and I’m going to whine about it.
I don’t have to put up with your attacks. Adieu!	I can’t find a way to counter the valid statement you just made so I’m flouncing out.

 

Should you want to put the cherry on the cake of the PWM character – and let’s face it PWMs think they all deserve the cherry – you could always have him use a number of the above phrases in a so-called ‘apology’ then email mutual connections of some description to tell them how he tried and so that “everyone can appreciate [his] grovelling.”

What now follows is quotes from other people who shared their experiences with me,

What they said	What I heard
Don’t want a baby? Keep your legs shut.	Birth control is not my responsibility.
Slavery’s not too bad, they were housed, fed, and clothed	Humans who aren’t like me are worth less, may not even be human.
Can’t do anything without it being some kind of sexual assault!	I don’t respect women and should be able to grab what I want, when I want.
There’s no such thing as the gender pay gap	Women aren’t as skilled as men so aren’t worth the same pay

 

As mentioned, feel free to use any of the above for inspiration, but here are two quotes from Val Portelli and her book “Story of A Country Boy”, that illustrate exactly what I’m talking about:Another perennial that I’m sure more then than a few can identify with, probably anyone who isn’t a privileged white male, in fact, is the repeating of your idea as if it’s their own.  Love that one.

‘… when I asked what was for dinner, she had the cheek to tell me to make it myself! Well, if that didn’t deserve a slap I don’t know what did.’

‘She didn’t apologise, but the next morning I came down to find a proper cooked English breakfast so I forgave her.’

 

Before anyone screams, yes – I know not all men are like this. I’ve given extreme definitions to illustrate the point. I suspect that this blog will offend a man or two, but if it does, perhaps those men should stop for a moment and question why they find this offensive.  I find parts of this offensive because it’s been used against me.  I find parts of this offensive because it’s been used against others.

The unfortunate truth is that privileged white males exist.  As it is a part of human experience there will be people who want to write about it, which is why I’m putting this out as what to consider if you want to portray a written character as a privileged white male.  In real life, most men, thankfully, do not think or act this way and hopefully, in a generation or two, none of them will.

Coming out of it

Life is full of difficult moments, tough choices.  I’ve not been around much this last month because I’ve been walking with the Black Dog. That doesn’t mean that I’ve been doing nothing. Mostly I’ve been writing and trying, and I’m going to keep on writing and trying, and who knows sometime it might pay off.

Today I wrote a passage about a character who did something only to feel crushed and embarrassed by the action later. That’s something I’ve done, I’m sure a lot of other people had done the same.  It got me thinking. I’ve been reflecting on how my life shows in my writing. And it does. While I’m not adventurous, I don’t have the courage my characters show, I sure know how to make myself feel bad. I look at the characters that I put on paper and I put them through hell because that’s the crap I put myself through.

Take Charlie Bell.  He’s a copper life – or I – turned into a killer. He ruined his life by making a difficult choice.  He knew what he was doing and it didn’t stop him doing it despite the cost because it was the only way.  Of course, he didn’t realise quite how much it was going to cost him. When he discovers the final payment, he shuts down.  Won’t eat. Won’t communicate. Won’t even move. Everything is too much of a bother.

This is typical depression non-activity. Except for me.  Comfort food is my downfall. Not much stops me eating.

But I get over it, and Charlie is forced to get out of his dark moment too.  To find out what pushed him over the edge, and what brought him back in Locked Up.