Great novels are diamonds mined from layered rewrites." — Piers Paul Read
Ann Mortimer was kind enough to post pictures of ongoing stages of her painting. Not being an artist myself, I find it fascinating to see how, layer by layer, the painting gets more depth and detail and more and more interesting.
I like to think that I'm a painter as I create a character. I first start with an outline of who I think the character is and what they should look like. Than layer by layer that character goes from a vague outline to a person with detail and real depth.
To give you an example of what I mean, I'm sharing three stages of building a character from my own writing. I hope you'll be able to see a big improvement from the beginning stage to the last.
Stage 1:
She had hastily put on a white headscarf to cover her untidy plaited hair. An old black shawl was draped around her shoulders. Her wool sarafan jumper was thin and worn. Colorful layers of embroidered trim had been added through the years to compensate for her growth. At least her white linen shirt and apron were nicely pressed and embellished with lovely embroidery. Her old brown leather boots were a definite embarrassment; luckily they were hidden beneath her long jumper.
She hastily put on a crisp, white linen blouse, she'd embroidered herself with red thread. Her loose-fitting, sleeveless dress, laced up the front with black ribbon. She hadn't worn the light green dress for some time since she rarely left home anymore. There was no time to sigh over how drab and threadbare the material had become. Several layers of colorful trim had been added through the years to compensate for her growth, and it relieved her to see the hem still covered her brown, work worn boots.
Stage 3:
Stage 3:
Lissa hastily put on a crisp, white linen blouse she'd embroidered herself with red thread. Her loose-fitting, sleeveless dress, laced up the front with black ribbon. There was no time to sigh over how drab and threadbare the light green material of her skirt had become. Several layers of colorful trim had been added through the years to compensate for her growth, and it relieved her to see the hem still covered her brown, work worn boots. She placed her best scarf around her sheared head, and tied it firmly. Lissa did not want to know how she looked. Less hair will make it easier to get ready, she told herself, biting her bottom lip. She slid an old black shawl around her shoulders and rushed back down the stairs.








