Hello, dreamers. As many of you will know, about a month ago now, I spent about a week doing something I swore I’d never do again: making major changes to Pioneers.

I didn’t expect to do that again mainly because of a personal policy of mine. You see a problem with writers all the time: they sit on a story for months, or even years, because they keep changing it. They make major changes over and over, then make minor changes over and over and over, because they’re sure it can be better.

Of course it can. Everything can always be better. No story will ever be perfect, nor will it ever turn out exactly the way you want it to. As a writer, that’s just something you must accept. By repeatedly altering a work in hopes of improving it, sooner or later you fall into what I call the “Perfection Trap”, where you keep working on a story forever and never actually publish it.

Years ago when editing Wide Horizon, I swore I wouldn’t let that happen. So, after a few rounds of editing and some minor clean-up, I told myself I was done. I decided it was past the “Point of No Return”: it may not be perfect, but it’s as good as it’s going to be. Any further changes would constitute minor improvements at best. And since each round of edits requires another round of proofreading, I risked keeping it on the shelf indefinitely.

Needless to say, I was much happier with the first draft of Pioneers than I was with Wide Horizon. It didn’t take long for me to feel I had produced a much better, more complete, more valuable piece of fiction. But one problem remained: the beginning.

As I mentioned in this week’s “WIP Wednesday“, I rewrote the opening chapters of Pioneers multiple times. The first few attempts just didn’t feel right, because I felt it too closely followed a formula for space colonization stories: they arrive in orbit, they start landing people, they lower prefabricated structure, blah blah blah. I wanted this to be totally different. So, I went in a totally different direction.

As originally written, Pioneers began not with the introduction of the main character, but rather with a harrowing flyby of a comet. It introduced the crew of the Susan Constant, provided background on my fictional future, and showed how these brave astronauts reacted to high-pressure situations. I loved it. Beta readers loved it. But those beta readers who were also fellow writers told me that, while it was good, it was also a gamble.

Modern literary convention says that the main character should be introduced almost immediately. Many publishers and agents will say the main character should be introduced within the first chapter or two. Some even insist it must happen within the first paragraph.

In Pioneers, Randall Holmes wasn’t introduced until the final paragraph of Chapter 7.

I’ve had a lot of time to think. The Pandemic, then building a family and a home for myself all led to Pioneers being justifiably back-burnered. But now, I find myself preparing to query an excellent work of hard science fiction, at a time when the market seems utterly ravenous for exactly the kind of sci-fi I write. And though I kept telling myself everybody gets to take one big swing per novel, as the clock ticked toward querying time…I checked my swing.

I decided to remove the comet flyby subplot for several important reasons:

1. It was a non sequitur. I began to realize that the comet flyby had virtually no impact on the rest of the story. Aside from a brief reference early in Phase 2, it was never mentioned again. All I lost was a small amount of character development, which could easily be worked into subsequent chapters
2. It was a red herring. While, given the nature of the story, it made sense to introduce the crew first (and to have the crew not be the main characters), the comet flyby focused on them entirely. In doing so, I would certainly give readers the impression that they were the main characters, making the introduction of Holmes confusing.
3. It felt disingenuous. By focusing so much on the crew themselves, I allowed the reader to bond with a group of characters who quickly faded to the background as the story progressed. At least some readers would likely feel misled.

After substantial pre-query editing, I decided the time had come to see if I could omit the comet flyby without compromising the story. It took time: I had to find new homes for some significant character building I’d omitted. I dubbed the result the Pioneers RDV (“Readers Digest Version”). But my most trusted beta reader loved it (though she admitted she missed the comet flyby).

It was tough to part with something I really loved. And I’ve retained the original manuscript, comet and all, just in case I find someone who’s receptive to big swings that break literary norms. But right now, I’m happy with the results of my work. I ended up writing about three thousand words of new text, and it felt good to return to Pioneers, like visiting an old friend.

Now, at last, I feel I’m ready to hit the trenches. I know I’ve written a great story: something unique as well as grounded and hopeful. And if I find any agents who really love comets, I’ve got something special to show them. – MK