I spent the last 6 months rewriting a ten-year-old love story

Some lessons learned on the way to the new ‘Mnemonics’

Don’t be afraid to murder your babies. One of the first things I learned in journalism school was that we should not be afraid to take our works apart. It is common for writers to treat their stories as their babies — why shouldn’t they, when seeing one through from brainstorming to writing feels a lot like childbirth?

They also said that you should leave your draft alone for some time so you can come back to it and edit it with fresh eyes. With this particular piece, that’s sort of what I did — left it alone for close to a decade — but man, that really did not make the editing part any easier. At all.

I went for it anyway.

The hardest part about the whole re-do was the change in POV, from second person to first. At the time of original writing, it seemed that I was on some sort of second-POV-phase, and that piece was among my favorite attempts at it. The second-person POV is known to be the hardest to pull off, and for good reason: with this POV, you presume to be inside your reader’s head in such an intimate way. In the end, my attempt felt more confusing than enlightening.

Something had to be done, clearly.

Some particular portions I found challenging:

• Assigning a name. Originally, the piece had nameless characters — the narrator (“I”) and her best friend/object of affection (“You”). Since I was doing away with the “you’s” I had to come up with a name, and rework all instances referring to “you” to refer to this “new” character, whom I later named Tricia.
• Verb tenses. Every single “You are” and similar mentions had to go. Consider this passage that introduces Tricia, as originally written in second person:

The clatter of your bicycle somewhere on our front lawn signals your arrival that Saturday; you’re half an hour early. I rush out of the bathroom with a robe on, toothbrush still in my mouth.

On our doorstep, you’re hugging your books against your chest, grinning. “I said ten,” I say by way of greeting, swinging the door open and letting you in.

“You did,” you say, skipping over my slippers, careful not to slip on the slight puddle of water I had taken with me from the bathroom. “Didn’t want to be late.”

You’re smoothing out your skirt in the living room, fixing your shirt. “Why in the world do you insist on riding your bike in a skirt anyway?” I ask, arms folded in front of me as I watch as you set your books on the table, hugging my robe closed.

“So what?” you ask in turn, plopping down on the sofa. “It’s comfortable. You should try it.”

“I don’t bike.”

This scene comes directly after the opening, and this was when I realized just how much of a rework this piece was going to be. A great deal of that had to be rewritten, of course. Here’s how that ended up:

The clatter of her bicycle on our front lawn signals Tricia’s arrival that Saturday; she’s half an hour early. I rush out of the bathroom with an oversized shirt on, toothbrush still in my mouth.

When I get to the door, I find her hugging her books against her chest, grinning. “I said ten,” I say, swinging the door open to let her in.

“You did,” she says, skipping over my slippers, careful not to slip on the slight puddle of water I had taken with me from the bathroom. “Didn’t want to be late.”

Once inside, she starts smoothing out her skirt and fixing her shirt. “Why do you insist on riding your bike in a skirt anyway?” I ask, arms folded.

“So what?” she asks in turn, plopping down on the sofa. “It’s comfortable. You should try it.”

“I don’t bike.”

• Keeping it consistent. As I’d soon find out, doing away with the old POV and reworking the piece into a new POV gave it an unexpected new tone — one that I had to make sure even the technically untouched portions also had. Without the ‘you’s’, the distance between the narrator and her friend Tricia was felt more substantial. It was like I could see them better as two separate characters.
• Retaining emotional impact. One of the things I loved about the second-person POV is its emotional proximity. Done well, it connects straight to where it’s supposed to, and I was happy to note that I still enjoyed some parts of it before the rework. In fact, I enjoyed them so much that I really agonized over how I was going to edit them. Consider this passage:

As I laugh, the rain starts pouring harder and I come over quickly with the umbrella by the door, fumbling briefly with the Velcro holding it together. By the time I reach you, you’re already significantly drenched, hugging the box to yourself tightly. There’s mud on your sneakers, and for a while, we just stand there in the rain, under my mother’s multi-colored umbrella, water pooling around our feet.

At first pass, this worked quite well. I loved the images it conjured in my head, still vivid after all this time. I did not want to touch this, if I were to be honest. But I had to, if I were to commit to reworking the entire thing’s POV. This is how it ended up, along with the next few reworked paragraphs:

The rain starts pouring harder and I come over quickly with the umbrella by the door, laughing and fumbling with the Velcro until she’s already drenched even before I reach her. She hugs the box tighter to herself, not minding the rain and the mud on her sneakers, and for a while, we just stand there, soaked under my mother’s multi-colored umbrella, water pooling around our feet.

After a while, she says, “I missed you,” soft as she smiles and wipes the rain from her face with an equally drenched hand.

The effort is hopeless and nearly comical, and just the sight of it almost makes me laugh, if not for the heaviness in my chest that keeps the sound trapped in my throat.

What to say to that? What if I say it back and not mean it in the proper way? What if it comes out meaning more than what I am ready for?

What if words are not even enough?

“What’s in the box?” I say instead, putting a smile on for cover.

Well. That works, too. I still saw two girls laughing under the rain. The narrator’s struggle with her confusion was also clear. All considered, that was good enough for me.

I’m releasing Mnemonics and Other Stories soon — please watch this space for updates. If you found this piece useful, please do me a favor and pass it on. Thank you!