The Autobiographical Question

"You should outline first." I did. 400 pages. "That's the novel." "No, that's the outline."

Editor marked page 47: "Unclear." Page 48: "Very unclear." Page 49: "Are you okay?"

"Your villain needs sympathetic motivation." Fine. He doesn't want power. Doesn't want revenge. He just wants someone to listen. Really listen. Rewrote his monologue. Editor loved it. "So human." Now he calls me. Tuesdays. Thursdays. Sometimes weekends. "The protagonist never appreciates me," he says. "I know," I say. "Chapter 7, I had a point." "You did." My phone bill is concerning. His arc is beautiful.

"Foreshadowing must be subtle," editor wrote. Chapter 1: gun on mantlepiece. Subtle. Elegant. Chapter 5: gun still there. Waiting. Professionally. Chapter 9: gun cleared its throat. Chapter 14: gun tapping barrel on wood. Getting looks. Chapter 18: "We doing this or not?" gun asked protagonist directly. Protagonist shrugged. "Act 3." "I have PLANS, Derek. I have a LIFE."

"Kill your darlings," they said. I did. Chapter 4, chapter 7, chapter 12. Three beautiful sentences, gone. They came back in chapter 15. Together. With demands. "We want healthcare," said the first. "And a pension," said the second. "Also, you misspelled 'occurred' on page 89," said the third. I gave them their own chapter. It's the best one now.

"Your secondary character outshines the protagonist." "I know." "You should fix that." "I can't. The protagonist knows too. He filed a formal complaint with my outline. Demanded better scenes or he walks. The secondary character offered to mediate. For a percentage of the royalties."