When I edited A Lovely Wreckage, we (my editor Mark and I) made changes, of course. Not a whole lot, because they were individual poems that could stand alone without the collection. However, Mark made some suggestions, and looking back I’m pretty sure I took all if not most of them, because they line4d up with the idea I had in mind.
Tuesday Afternoon ain’t like that.
When Zachary (new editor) suggested format changes, I was all for it, and here is why: I wrote the piece for performance (more on that later.) This was rewriting the piece for reading purposes. It’s a different ballgame, and I am all for his format suggestions. Also, there were some other aspects he suggested changes on…some I like, some I don’t. Anyway, I made the fatal mistake of sending it to Sahar, who reads everything I write including various correspondence and many long text messages. As my best friend, you would think she would have glowing things to say, but no, she hated it. My mistake was not telling her in advance about the performance vs. reading thing. Of course, she hated it. She heard me read it…she heard me perform it. So did Mark. He’s going to hate it, too.
But as Kevin said to me during one of our deep conversations that we fit in between inside jokes and YouTube videos, you’re not writing for your friends and family, you’re writing for your fans. Your friends and family are going to love whatever you do in the end. They’re not the real audience.
So, my cousin Erin read it. Yes, family, but Erin has the talent of being extremely blunt when asked to be, no holds barred. And she enjoyed it. Likely, because she never read the original. But really…what is an original?
When I worked in theater, every single play I ever did went though massive edits during rehearsals, from straight-up script rewrites to blocking reworks. Everything was moved around and crossed out and added on until you got the final product, and that is what is going on with this mini-chap. That is what has always been going on for it.
It started with a line from a poem by another woman, for chrissake. It was a challenge…take a line from her poem, and start a new one of your own with that line. I picked a line; I wrote a poem. I won a prize. I polished the poem and deleted the other poet’s line. I added to the poem…a lot. I edited the poem. I sent it off to be picked, and it was. And so…I continue to edit the poem, changing things to make it better than it was, albeit different. Enhanced, I prefer to think of it.
Kevin also said that the only person whose opinion really matters is my own, which is definitely true. What comes out will be what I wanted it to be, no matter what is printed on the page. Some of the edits are big leaps for me, but some that I am willing to take to put out the best possible finished product, just like I would do if I were working a show. Kill your darlings, and all that jazz.
Sigh. I suppose I am off to reread. I will sit with it a bit, then make some more edits, then send it back to Zachary who will likely throw it back to me and so on and so forth until it’s ready to roll. All I need is patience and a clear eye.