The feedback I got on my novel — from two literary agents and my creative writing workshop teacher and classmates — is unanimous:
“PLEASE! For the love of God, slow down!”
- “There may need to be more added to this story, all of it seems to move down a river with no stopping to catch your breath. It just kind of piles on top of each other so adding more may benefit you greatly for this story.”
- “Stage scene is great. But too much speeding up with Eduardo. We want to get to know who Eduardo is.”
- “Felt like times hurrying to the next step, especially abuse of El Bruto. Need more dialogue and slower. Want to hear more about that because such an important thing that happens to her.”
Ok. Cool. Now, How to digest creative writing feedback?
I am discovering that the way I write is the way I live. But as one of my classmates pointed out, I shine when zooming in and slowing down. Headspace right now is limited because of work-for-pay. Balancing the need to write a story with rent, fiance and stepdaughter keeps me in the shallow end of the pool.
First step: Chew on the feedback slowly.
Get into present time. First thing that comes up? I didn’t realize feedback is the gift I’ve always needed and wanted until today, the Winter Solstice, December 21, a time when slowing down and gift-giving permeate whatever culture or religion we follow. Since October, I’ve been stomping around in frustration, not knowing where to start with revisions, flipping and flopping the plot around on my Trello board, brainstorming entirely new titles for the book, rewriting scenes from novel to script format, binging all kinds of Netflix — “Gentefied,” (2x) “Russian Doll” (3x), “Passing,” “Rita Moreno: Just a Girl Who Decided to Go For It,” “Joan Didion: The Center Will Not Hold,” “You,” “Maid,” “Pose” (2x), “Queen’s Gambit” (3x) and “Dear White People” — while continuing to read “Jazz” by Toni Morrison and “Soul of a Woman” by Isabel Allende and “Dominicana” by Angie Cruz while writing new opening pages and new scenes, but not really feeling like I’m flowing or doing the right thing with this story. Apparently feedback is not something that is quickly or easily digested. Just like bread, creative writing feedback can get stuck in your large intestine.
Second step: Take a shot of apple cider vinegar and write a blog post to get un-stuck.
The stars aligning this way or that way will not get me through this patch. Sure, numerology says I’m in an 8 year, which means mathematically, in the 9-year cycles of life, I’m supposed to achieve material and financial gain, reward, status, and satisfaction. And yes, I’ve achieved more material and financial gain through my freelance work (or is it called consulting?), but real talk: The status and satisfaction I desire is signing a deal with a literary agent or a production company.
And maybe that’s still in the works, if I can just focus and keep working to make this story the best it can be. Like Britney says, “You better work, bitch.” Oh wait, I guess now we all know she was forced to work. For me, writing helps me think things through. So if I write a blog post that describes my steps for digesting feedback, I help myself and perhaps help other writers going through the same process.
Third step: Parse the feedback into separate Trello cards (or Post-It Notes).
I ranked the feedback according to those I respect most. My writing workshop teacher Jacinda Townsend said:
- You do a great job with pacing in the sense that you include only the most salient timeline, and omit a lot of the information between chapters that weigh down the backpack, so I know you have an instinct for it.
- Do all scenes. Don’t need summary (these are the montages in the script version)
- On showing vs telling. It’s all about being in the world. It might be too dense. When you cut out of a chapter it’s perfect, I marveled at that. You might want to think about places you told us the story and to some extent you’re telling us how to feel. Always more powerful to deliver the scene and let us feel it.
- Villainy is all the more poignant when it is more three-dimensional, when you hear from the villain about his or her moral failings. Even one line of dialogue would suffice.
- I noticed throughout that much was made over whether a character was light or dark-skinned, but then it matters little in the life of the narrative at hand. Maybe it’s information we don’t need, or perhaps you need to make us understand why it matters.
And the classmates I respected most said:
- Setting helps describe how character is feeling, especially the iguana. Loved the descriptions – helped slow down. Writing shines when zooming in and slowing down.
- I could see how this was a script once when you go into the dancing right after she is signed. It is very theatrical. I wonder if we need more about what it was like to get in there and just start dancing for this many people. Were there nerves? Maybe it was so natural that there weren’t any.
- I can tell you took care in researching this time period. When in Harlem, I like the subtlety of Shuffle Along. Would like to see more of the steamship trip.
And of the 13 friends I sent it to, three replied with concrete feedback (silence is feedback in and of itself):
- It reads like a script. You can use the story to build a brand like Silencio. Maybe create a mood board.
- Maybe adapt it into an essay. Essays are having a moment right now.
- The first two chapters pack a lot of heat. Send the rest of it, please!
Fourth step: Zoom out and find the commonalities in the feedback.
If I combine “the pacing is too fast” with “it reads like a script,” my conclusion is that I did not write a novel. I wrote a script in novel format. This makes sense since I originally started writing the story as a script, just after graduating film school at American University.
The other feedback is the hook: “A female rum-runner in 1920s Puerto Rico.” Every single person I’ve ever told that my story is about a female rum-runner in 1920s Puerto Rico has said, “Ooh. That sounds good.” It’s a story that has not been told.
The other part people have responded to is WHY I wrote the story. I’ve been saying I wrote it so I could understand myself better. My hypothesis: IF my bisabuela was a cigar-smoking rum runner in 1920s Puerto Rico, THEN I am the continuation of her rebellious spirit in the 21st century tech world, and my audience of women and girls in tech will feel inspired by a woman who broke all the rules 100 years ago.
Fifth step: Think like a Tech Entrepreneur.
Feedback helps startups pivot. And every story is its own startup. Whether it grows large or small depends on the writer’s intentions, collaborators, networks and the market’s appetite for the product (ie, the story, in this case). The direct feedback Rita Moreno and Lin-Manuel Miranda are receiving about “West Side Story” and “In the Heights” is not just reviews by The New Yorker and Deadline. The box office is telling them their audience is not as large or as enthusiastic as Spidey’s. Some people say the pandemic is keeping Moreno’s and Miranda’s target demographics away from the box office, while others say people aren’t really into musicals (even though Shiro’s Story is huge on YouTube).
Enter THE NINE LIVES OF MARIA LA GATA 9-episode script with the log line: A struggling single mother lives 9 lives on her path to becoming a notorious rum runner in 1920s Puerto Rico. (Thanks for helping me re-write that logline, Antonio Piedra!)
Sixth step: Keep refining the story, in both novel and script formats.
I’ve separated the novel into nine Google docs in order to keep refining it (not giving up on it just yet!) and nine Celtx scripts with the idea that it can eventually be optioned into a 9-episode TV series. I’m also making it clear to myself and everyone this story is NOT a musical like “In the Heights” and “West Side Story.” I mean, there’s music in it, but it’s not a musical. And it’s not a film for showing at the movie theater where opening weekend box office numbers matter and give producers and distributors the impression that mainstream audiences “aren’t interested in stories by and about brown people.” No.
THE NINE LIVES OF MARIA LA GATA is a novel that will hopefully get published, AND a 9-episode script intended for streaming on Netflix, Hulu, Amazon, HBO Max. Every generation at the moment prefers streaming. They have proven they will pay their subscriptions and/or $30 viewing fee, regardless of bootlegging devices like fire sticks. Episodic stories like Gentitified, Pose and Brand New Cherry Flavor have all gained respect (awards), loyal audiences and — best of all — push the needle forward for all brown people. It’s not just creators like me who benefit from more representation. This is when you hear the money sound, cha-ching! $$$$!!!!
Yeah! Long tail boyeeeee! Tech has upgraded the movie game and I’m a Latinx multimedia storyteller who wants to play with producers/directors like Antonio Piedra, America Ferrera, Robert Rodriguez, Natalie Haack Flores.
Seventh step: Thank everyone for their feedback.
I’ve started editing a pitch video to thank everyone who gave feedback, which I can eventually send to potential collaborators.
Cuz all I really want for Christmas, Hanukkah and the Winter Solstice
are collaborators who wanna work with me to make this story about
A female Puerto Rican rum runner in the 1920s
the next bingible streaming hit!
Amen. Namaste. Ommmmm.