This homely little fellow is a mayfly nymph. He hatched from an egg on the bottom of a stream. He lives at the very bottom of the river, down in the muck. He hides from the light and keeps between, and sometimes under the rocks.
He’ll live there for a whole year. He grows, and has to shed his skin multiple times. The withered husk simply drifts away on the stream. It kind of looks like him, but it has no soul. No personality. It’s almost like the nymph has to discard some things as he grows and evolves.
A novel starts out as a manuscript. Think of it like a novel nymph. It hatches from an outline, or even just a loose idea in a writer’s mind. It hangs out in the dark too. It’s habitat could be a spare bedroom, garage or even a closet/office. It too has to go through an evolution. Chapters go off to critique groups and come home as withered husks that only resemble the manuscript in a superficial way. Characters get combined, or even change genders. They get new names and evolve. Still, it stays in the dark growing in word count over a period of about a year.
After about a year, our mayfly nymph is as big as he needs to be. He’s been through many revisions and must shed his skin one last time. He comes into the light and swims to the top of the stream, wriggling out of his final skin.
A manuscript also steps into the light. It goes off to beta readers, who read the entire manuscript from the very beginning. These wonderful people suggest things that can make the story stronger and more coherent.
The nymph has to dry out a bit. He isn’t exactly a nymph anymore, but something in between stages. He has wings now, but they’re wet and wrinkled. He needs a bit of time in the sun.
The manuscript goes off to an editor. It needs a bit of polish too. Not much, just a bit here and there to let it put it’s best image forward.
Our nymph is gone forever. He is a fully fledged mayfly now, and a very handsome fellow to boot. His lines are estheticly pleasing, and he has a brilliant color. Anyone would be lucky to spot him and revel in his magnificence.
The manuscript is gone forever too. It is now a fully functional novel. It has a brilliant cover indicating the promise within. An enticing blurb greets all those lucky enough to spot it.
The mayfly scans the skies as the sun warms him up from his aquatic beginnings. He has one task left to compete. He must find a mate.
The novel goes through a waiting process too. The author has to upload everything to Amazon, or some other book vendor. There is some formatting to check, and it too is ready to take flight. It’s final job is to find a reader.
The mayfly spreads it’s wings and launches itself into the air.
The author pushes the publish button and cracks open a well earned beverage. Both the novel and the mayfly take flight, only to discover…
There are other mayflies and novels competing for attention. Enough to to blot out the sun, both figuratively and literally.
Excellent analogy. Complete with that oddly bitter ending.
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Yup. Welcome to the Amazon.
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Ah yes, lots of other mayflies out there. As an author that can be tough, but as a reader it’s wonderful. 🙂
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I suppose that’s true too. Lots to choose from today. I wonder if it will thin out because writers get discouraged. That’s kind of a basic economics idea. Something tells me it won’t happen like that. Writing is too much fun.
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That it is.
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Loved the analogy. No caterpillars and butterflies from Craig! You have an amazing, uniquely odd, imagination, but I’ve told you that before. I’m sort of discouraged right now. Trying to keep the faith that I’ll, at some point, produce something I am satisfied with.
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Uniquely odd, I’ll take it. I’m competing with myself. I don’t have much influence over the market and how something will be received. I enjoy the process, so I keep doing it.
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Love the analogy. I always knew it was more work getting the book published than writing it (I jest) but never could have worded the process quite like this. More like giving birth–naturally, as only a woman could do.
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What a great comparison! I think my mayfly’s hibernating at the moment
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That’s okay too. You have other things to focus on.
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This post… it’s so… so… Well, let’s just say I think it’s my favorite of all time. Love it, just doesn’t seem strong enough. AMAZING — more appropriate. The ending photo: “Welcome to the Amazon, baby.” Perfect!
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Yeah, I liked the twist at the end. Glad you liked it.
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Awesome post! I have been in a “mayfly storm” before. Great comparison to authors and their works. It says exactly how I feel sometimes. That ending really nails it.
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Thanks. The Muse just sends me stuff sometimes. We get mayflies out here too. I just thought of those ugly first drafts, and how they get shined up into something presentable. There it was.
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Wonderful, Craig! 😁
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Thanks. Hope things are starting to even out at your place. My life is going to be crazy until late next week.
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Nice analogy 🙂
Love the yellow Mayfly, isn’t he lovely?! 😀
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He is pretty cool.
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And there I thought you were going to say the novel lives only a few hours, like a mayfly.
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Well, now that you mention it…
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Beautiful post on the evolution of a novel. 🙂 I hope mine will be able to evolve as yours has. 🙂
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I’m sure it will.
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WOW! What a brilliant metaphor!
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I get them on occasion. Stick around and I may have another one in ten years.
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LOL! You’re a funny, funny man, Mr. Boyack. (And wickedly creative, too.)
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Reblogged this on that scribbler and commented:
What a way put it! My manuscript suddenly feels so much more important!
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Thanks for the re-blog.
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Ha ha ha. Indeed. Welcome to the Amazon. Great metaphor and pix. One of my fav posts here.
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Thank you.
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I love this.
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Thanks, it was fun to write.
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