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Reading Chick Lit

Today was all about revisions and critique. As a start, I kept rolling with The Magister, reworking the plot points of Chapter 11 heavily enough to reverse an entire sequence of events. This turned out to be less complicated than I feared — it was mostly annoying in that I might as well have blown it up and started afresh. I triaged the casualties — tomorrow I move on to Chapter 12.

Part of me wants to sink the entire manuscript in a lobster trap somewhere in the Bering Strait. I take this as a sign I should submit it to agents again and get cranking on the second book again.

As a break, I read about 4 chapters of chick lit as part of an upcoming workshop. It was well crafted, with sympathetic characters. Though hardly my usual genre, it wasn't difficult to critique: all the same basic rules apply and a few of the usual suspects were easy to spot. I rounded them up and poured only a wee dram of acid into the wounds inflicted. I'm happy to see that my critiquing skills have improved from the time spent talking theory and craft with the Alliterates. Lucky for me, there are no Alliterate bylaws against the reading of the shopping-and-relationship genres.

Honestly, the chapters were good enough that I was left wanting more trashy beach reading. Fortunately, I don't have much genre cred to lose.

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April 2016

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