The Whole Way Through

An unofficial, belated Workshop Wednesday post, since I've been too deep in trying to finish White Wolf to be a proper blogger. 

Back during my show days, my trainer, who was wonderful, had two last-minute things she would say before every dressage test. "You really gotta get in there." And "Ride the whole test."

One of the more popular, and hilarious misconceptions I've encountered about riding has been that new riders think that once you ask a horse to do something, it keeps doing it until you tell it to stop. Kick once for trot, and the horse keeps trotting until you whoa. They quickly learn that this is not the case at all. Horses don't have buttons to push; they're highly sensitive, and intelligent, and to ride a horse is to be in constant, subtle and kind communication with them. 

A dressage test is a collection of cavalry movements performed in a particular pattern, and to ride the whole test means that you don't just execute one movement, and rush to the next, with sloppy in-between moments. It means you approach each transition with the same care and attention to detail. No slacking off, no sitting like a sack of potatoes. Constant communication and correction. 

I love my riding/writing metaphors, and I've always been struck by the ways "ride the whole test" applies to writing a novel. Some scenes are more exciting than others, more enjoyable for the author to write, but in order to pull off a book that is enjoyable throughout for the reader, the writer must approach each chapter, each page, each scene, each line with the same care and thoughtfulness. You aren't writing a few scenes linked together with filler; you're writing the whole book, moment to moment. Make each sentence count.