It happened again last week. I poured my heart, soul, time, and energy into a scene. It was on my mind for days and I tried to sculpt every world to the point of perfection. Then the scene disappeared.
Photo by Ray_from_LA
I know I saved. I thought I backed up. But the piece was not to be found.
So I did what all mature writers do: I complained on Twitter, ate a pint of ice cream, and moped with a series of chick flicks questioning whether or not I really have what it takes to “make it” in the writing world.
Eventually my spoon found the bottom of the carton, my movie collection hit the final credits, and my self-esteemed started peering out from behind the couch.
I picked up the pen.
Word by word I tried to put the masterpiece back together. With every sentence I became more convinced that the original writing of the scene was better.
But the original scene was gone and I was going to have to make the new one work. After all, I was in good company of writers who lost work. Hemingway lost almost everything he wrote before 1922 in a briefcase that went missing on a train.
But, unlike for Hemingway, my scene reappeared in this wonderful invention called Dropbox. (If you're not using Dropbox, I highly recommend signing up).
As I read the original scene—the one I was convinced was better—I realized that I was wrong. In contrasting the two, I realized the rewrite was actually considerably stronger.
Maybe losing my work was actually a blessing.
Has this ever happened to you? Have you ever been devastated by the disappearance of a piece? How did you cope? Tell me your worst writing-loss catastrophe.
PRACTICE
Rewrite a scene.
Pick a scene from your work in progress (or even a practice you did a few days ago). Without looking at what you wrote originally, re-envision the scene, write it over again, and share it in the comments.
I have SO been here. I lost an entire book when I took my laptop in to be worked on. What I thought they would do didn’t involve wiping the hard drive, but they did it anyway. I cried for a month. I was devastated. I had a previous version, but like you, knew that the last revision I’d done was the best. I guess now, after reading your post, I’ll have to go back over it and see what can be done. Thanks for the inspiration!
Don’t go back over it. Write from memory then decide between the two which is stronger. You may be surprised.
Lost seventy thousand words after saving onto my flashdrive to place on my laptop. Never work on a story after working eleven hours straight at the day job. Worked on house PC for bigger screen and color code my chapters. I write POV’s in different colors to keep me focused as I write. Transferred to flashdrive as someone was speaking to me and hit do not replace as apposed to replace and lost all that I changed over the last two weeks. The flashdrive and laptop only had my original on it. And I didn’t save on the PC (Sleep deprived) Didn’t realize the mistake until I went to transfer it later and the KB count was seriously low. Now I use Dropbox. No more melt downs 🙂
Yuck! Yes, I love Dropbox.
Dear Emma,
I saw the doctor the other day. I never write about these things because I’m very used to putting on a facade. As you know, I perform in the stage regularly and I learn to be happy for those minutes and hours I spend acting on the stage. I teach young children, teenagers and adults music. I am the teacher and I never want to be that teacher who brings her burdens to work. Somehow telling you this feels strange … almost as though I am naked, exposing myself in a very intimate way. I trust you. I know that you can keep my secret, and although it’s not as intrusive as a pelvic exam… It is personal.
I went to the doctor the other day and told him I felt suicidal. I think I scared the man. As soon as I told him about my thoughts of death his voice softened and he coaxed me into telling him more. He asked me about what might have triggered this, I told him about the last concert, the bad reviews in the local press, the bitchiness that as all too common in the arts industry and he listened. I told him about Kate, how she died, how I knew her, she went to my concert last week and now she’s dead. I wasn’t terrible close to her … but knew her and now she’s dead and I feel empty. I told him about my long history of clinical depression and he asked me if I was taking any medication. I told him what I took and I gave him the dosage number.
We went around in circles. When he asked me if I made any plans already, I told him that I sharpened one of my knives with a steel – not just with a stone. I told him about my injuries, the ones I inflicted on myself. I told him about the plan I already had. I told him about the note that I finished writing.
I stuttered between words, pausing here and there because it felt so strange to tell a stranger, particularly a doctor about your suicidal plans. After all that he said this:
“Based on everything that you have said to me, I really think that you should go to the hospital.”
I refused this and told him that I really don’t like it there. His reply:
“I’m worried, I’m worried about your safety, worried that you will do something tonight.”
I sucked him into my vortex of negative energy, pangs of guilt began to attack my stomach. He asked me:
“If I filled out the form and made the call, would you go the hospital voluntarily?”
My reply: “Probably not”
Funnily enough he didn’t make me go. I knew that he had the power to… but he didn’t. I walked out of his office, still empty and unhealed… suffering under what Sylvia Plath called “The Bell Jar,” what William Styron called “Visible Darkness,” what Elizabeth Wurtzel wrote about in “Prozac Nation.”
It’s quite surreal to look at everything I thought about last week. I noticed that I missed a few doses of medication, lost a few nights of sleep due to the concert, the negative press made me bitter and Kate’s death made me feel shocked and empty… all those things lead to this black hole. When I started taking my meds again it sort of didn’t seem that black, still grey a little but not deadening.
I hope that you’ve had a good week… I’ve had a better one.
Thanks for reading, till next time
C
Another kind of loss! Nicely done – you have made me think about all sorts of things – life!
Wow, that part about sharpening the knife with steel chilled my bones. The ending of the letter was unexpected, especially after that knife story – but you pull it off as you dissect the week into manageable pieces that have become less overwhelming after the evaluating process – which feels so real. ‘still grey a little but not deadening’ – I love that line.
I love the details and interaction, Rebecca. The only thing I noticed as at the beginning (first paragraph or so), I felt like C was trying to prove Emma knows her. I understand you were trying to tell the reader but it didn’t feel natural. Great post!
Thank you Katie, glad you liked the details, I worried that I might have disclosed too many. Thanks for the feedback, yes, reading over this the second time I agree – I does seem a bit forced. I’ll play around with it a bit, thanks for your feedback.
You may think of it as a blessing, but there is a reason why I use programs that save automatically for first drafts, like Scrivener or Evernote. At most, one loses a few words if the program decides to crap out on you.
Word autosaves too but crazier things have happened…
Years ago, just starting out with my first computer, when “saving” was dangerous if you did it wrong, yes, I lost a document. I couldn’t believe it was gone. It had to be in there somewhere. Or on the floor or in the waste basket. I actually went to the window and looked out… to see if it was out there. It couldn`t just be ‘gone’. Since that day I always print out — HARD COPY– everything I write that day.
That’s not bad advice. Until you move like Juliana and have to do something with all of those trees.
PJ recently a girl in an office told a guy you have photocopied them upside down – he went to photocopy them all again. (Trollied Series 2 must watch British humour at it’s best, + my friend is in it)
That happened just this week. Spent all morning procrastinating and then finally writing something I had to use the next day at a speaking event and poof. It was gone. Never to reappear. So frustrating, but with a deadline looming, I got back to writing it all over again.
I’m sure it was better the second time 🙂
Years ago I wrote a children’s novel, an adventure story. I even sent it off to a publisher who rejected it but did so with kind and encouraging words. I put it in a bottom drawer and moved on. I got a real job – a career! We upgraded the computer and moved house and in the clean out I threw it away! Now I have come back to writing I so regret, I so miss it, I tried to rewrite it but it was impossible. Too many years had passed and I realized writing for children was too challenging, too hard for me now. But forward … Onward we go!
That’s hard, Juliana! At least you have the nice memory of it.
Awww, what a shame you lost it
I was writing a children’s book and wrote a scary descriptive chapter about descending down a creepy stone staircase to a dungeon. poof, it disappeared. I re-wrote it, but didn’t capture the mood or scary feeling. I was always disappointed with that, but today I feel better about it already. Thanks! I could probably re-write that now (after twenty years)
Do it, Claudia! Let’s hear that scary children’s book 🙂
Irrationally, Shirley found herself waiting for the jingle of the doorbell. And whenever she heard it, she gripped the smooth side of the table. But it was never Charles. And looking at the snow outside, she knew he wouldn’t come.
She often wondered about that. Charles O Conner arrived at her shop thirteen years ago with an easy walk and an Irish lilt that made him the most watched man in town, by men and women alike. Even his broken shoes with the souls lagging behind were made beautiful by their owner.
‘Good afternoon, sir.’
‘Aye,’ he smiled at her, as if she’d paid him a compliment.
‘You need some help?’
‘No, no, no. None at all.’ They heard a shriek from outside. It was a child, overcome with joy at the sight of the beautiful rainbow balloon tied to her own fist. Shirley smiled and turned back to the dishevelled man in front of her. And there was the kind of smile she’d never seen before – at least not directed towards her – etched on his face as he studied her. She blushed, and walked behind the till.
‘Don’t you just love summer,’ the man said, although not as a question.
And since that day, Charles O Conner didn’t miss a day. When the bright pink buds emerged, he was there, and when the days turned hazy with heat and new-found summer promises, he was there, and when the leaves turned red with passion, he was there in her tiny little sweet shop, buying little and talking even less. But as soon as Shirley saw the first snow fall, she knew that there were too many days to count until the next time Charles walked into her life again.
I like it, Zoe! Did you go back and look at the original? How do they compare?
🙂 I actually didn’t write the ‘original’ – I tried to write a piece on winter for the day before, and it just collapsed, so this was kind of the first draft. And I look back and think… hmmm, needs work!!
Cheater. 😉 I’m glad it finally came out though!
I had my first novel on an early flash drive, you know the ones that are like two inches long. Anyway, I had it plugged into to my tower and was skipping between working on the story and the Internet. I received an email that made me cry and my partner came over to see what was wrong. She knelt beside me to hug me and hit the flash drive with her knee. The drive broke off in the computer. I lost EVERYTHING. Or so I thought. I was in a panic, heartbroken, trying not to blame her. I emailed my daughter (aka computer geek) and begged her to tell me there something that could be done. Nada. I broke down crying again. My daughter asked me what I’d lost and I told her. Her response? She started laughing. “Mom, you just sent me that file this morning, remember? You didn’t lose the novel. I’ll send it right back to you.” A long moment of silence before I broke out in hysterical, relieved laughter. That novel was published the following year, release back to me early this year and is in the process of being rewritten. I back it up on Dropbox EVERY SINGE PARAGRAPH!!!
That’s awesome! I’m so glad it turned out well! I’ve had the same thing happen–my laptop fell off a tv tray. The laptop was fine but the thumb drive had to be taken apart to be salvaged. It came back from the tech guy in a Ziploc bag…
Joe — Get a Mac! After twice (!!!) losing 300 pp that had (fortunately) been saved onto a flash drive the night before but having to recreate the day’s work, I bought an iMac and plunked down $45.for Scrivener. The two best decisions in this writer’s life!
Seriously!
John Gordon
http://www.PennySummersMysteries.com
Hi John!
That sounds awful. Fortunately, I have both a Mac and Scrivener, but Katie, the author of this post, apparently has neither. The fool. 😉
Thanks John!
Bla bla bla.
I do have Scrivener. And Dropbox.
😉
Just recently I lost my flash drive (I still can’t find it). I had 20,000 words of my first novel on it and I panicked. Then I remembered that I email it to myself after I write. I use gmail so I always have access to it no matter where I am. But in those moments when i thought it was gone it was a horrible feeling.
Now I use Google Drive for backing things up.
Jon
I used to use Google Drive but I’d always forget to upload things. The nice thing about Dropbox is it does it for you.
I dropped my sticks in the freezer yesterday whilst cleaning it, I saw one and my glasses but not till the evening. Sent my saintly husband out to ferret in the bin. It is above the range drying and praying
Good luck! hope it works, Suzie 🙂
Because I travel a lot, I write my novel on a mini computer. Not much hard drive. So I save on a USB. Often I back it up on my husband’s computer or e-mail it to myself , but not always. One afternoon I was writing in an easy chair when the phone rang. As I rose to answer it, the mini slipped off my lap, landed sideways on the USB and broke it in half. And no data doctor in the Northwest could put Humpty Dumpty back together again. I lost several chapters.
Ugh! I had that happen to me once too…
Golden rays streamed through the ancient church’s lead lined windows. Dust particles danced in the rays as he sat waiting, immobile. Glued by an unseen need. Time progressed, the rays moved and changed colour as the glass stained with dye, with blood, gave the glowing sun’s message in hues wrought from an postdiluvian covenant. He watched.
(originally post for words on wednesdays this week first paragraph)
Katie I lost an entire accessible website once due to a child’s finger – no I didn’t cut it off. Eight hours solid work, poof, gone. The second version was a cardboard cut out of the original because my get up and go had gone. When it happens, you’ll only recreate something better if you are invested in it. Somewhere on a cranky old ‘puter in the attic is my only copy of a story I keep trying to rewrite but I only have the essence not the full flavour (instant or Cuban!)
In the darkest nether reaches of my lifebreath I sometimes consider the Do-over. It is so prevalent in movies for TV at this time of year. It had been on my mind last week as I prepared to tell a group “my backstory” or testimony. It was greeted by stunned silence.
When I got home a FB message from one of the listeners said I echoed herstory and then I bumped into one of the participants in a random town in the next county yesterday, she hugged me and more vital (considering the story she heard) she hugged my husband (whom she only knew through the story).
Do-over – for that one grin I had on my face yesterday I would never rewrite my past.
This is gorgeous!
still grinning!
I remember back in 7th or 8th grade I wrote a book, all handwritten in a dingy yellow book. It was a crappy story, really horrible, but my first. Whenever I moved into my new house as a freshman, I had lost it, still can’t find it.
Nothing I would really want to renovate and sell, but it’d be nice to have it still.
Ugh, yup, I’ve lived that story too.
When you drop something in the dropbox it’s also on your computer, too, right? From, a not so techsavvy person, haha.
Yes
Any time I’ve ever lost a story, I’ve always found that the rewritten version is better. Guess that’s what the process of revision and copy-editing is all about, huh!
Definitely! I’m glad we’ve had similar experiences, Yvette.
I once lost an almost completed manuscript I had been writing. I was devastated. But when I started rewriting it (after several months of moping), I found that it was much, much better than the original.