Editing, angst and ice cream
When I finished writing Fairysitting, I was ecstatic. When I sent it off to a lovely editor who had massively boosted my self-esteem and writerly hopes by requesting a full, I was over the moon.
As soon as it had left my email, though, I was seized with dread. What if it wasn’t as good as it might be? What if it really needed another month or two of editing? What if I had left a typo in? What if it was in fact a steaming pile of poo?
I therefore refused to look at the book while I waited to hear back from the lovely editor. I didn’t want to see anything that I couldn’t fix. It’s not like I could send her another copy with a sheepish email saying “Oh sorry! I really didn’t like that adverb half-way down page 124 and come on, what was I thinking on page 76?” Better that I just didn’t know that I had sent something seriously flawed. I simply pretended that this book did not exist and got working on another book. Well, several other books. I’m a bit of project floozy.
But things didn’t seem to work out with lovely editor so now I am taking my book back. I am reading it again. I am opening myself up to critical readers and sharp eyes. I have spent the morning with a printed copy and a pen, scrawling all over the damn thing because you know what? It really could have been better. Much better. Oh, the flaws! The inconsistencies! That darn Renaissance Fayre father figure with a pipe! As Charlie Brown so eloquently said, “AAAAUGH!”
I am taking some comfort that in 45000 words I have only noticed two actual typos. But honestly. Is anything ever ready? Is it ever done? I certainly felt a sense of satisfaction when I had “finished.” I mean, I was satisfied enough to let an editor actually read the darn thing. Now I blush to think of it. Oh where can I put my face!
I can see a load of minor things to fix — several sort of middling things that need tweaking — and one whole character who needs to be kicked in his woodsy arse. (Yes, Renaissance Fayre intruder, I mean YOU! Take your stinky pipe and beat it!) And it’s rather exciting. The book is done — which means I don’t have to wonder whether I will ever actually reach the end, which is my usual fear. My trap is not slapdash first drafts: it’s first drafts that never get finished because I’m so busy worrying and editing and worrying and fretting about the first half that I give up in exhaustion before I get to the second half. So this will be a whole new kind of work. Like, oh I don’t know, planting flowers after you’ve dug and weeded and edged the bed. The really tough slog is done. This is about turning it from a piece of ground with a few flowers into a proper garden, everything in place, each plant leading the eye to the next, making a satisfying whole out of the many disparate parts.
This book is going to bloom. It is going to be the damn Longwood Gardens of books. I am going to weed it ruthlessly. Dig whole bits under if necessary. I am going to transplant and fertilize and lots of other good gardening metaphors!
And then I’m going to let it go again and eat ice cream. Actually, if I’m honest, there will be lots of ice cream all the way along. But there will be ice cream then too.
As a general rule when I finish a draft of something, I let it sit for at least a month, untouched. Sometimes 2. Then I come back to it with fresh eyes to mark it up and figure out improvements and weak spots, etc. After I make THOSE corrections, then it goes out to trusted beta readers and I do another round of revisions. After that, I usually feel like it’s safe to send out. But I’d probably wait another month and do a fresh read just to be sure. I find it’s helpful to read it when I’m…I was going to say no longer in love with it, but that’s not quite accurate. I guess when I’m past the blush of love and newlywed and into middle age with a story. When I can more accurately see faults in a piece. Anyway, good for you for having the right attitude approaching this revision.
I really adore this post. Mainly because when I started the revision process on my MS, I thought it was a steaming pile of poo. I never looked at it like a quaint little beginner’s garden. Those are still beautiful, aren’t they? And to think that it has room to grow and become a landscaper’s dream is exciting, not daunting. Will it win any neighborhood awards right now? No. But I still enjoy sitting in the middle of it in the early morning when the mist is rising, a cup of coffee in my hands. And a few of my friends enjoy it just as much. The question is, can I get it on the cover of Home & Gardening? I think it’s possible.
In fact, I’d love to share the H&G cover with you and your garden.
I really enjoyed reading this post.
Particularly: “My trap is not slapdash first drafts: it’s first drafts that never get finished because I’m so busy worrying and editing and worrying and fretting about the first half that I give up in exhaustion before I get to the second half.”
That is the stage I am at, right now. I’m trying to kick myself into gear to just get the first draft done and dusted instead of worrying about editing and revising, but it’s so hard to let go when I feel like it’s not perfect yet.
It’s nice to know I’m not the only one with this pitfall!