Sometimes in life you have something you want to scream from the rooftops, but that would be rude to your neighbors, so you scream it all over your social media instead. That said, I have been waiting until today to share this with you, my dear blog readers, who have been with me every step of the way: she is done. She, of course, being my first draft.
I conceived this baby back when Dubya was president, by the way, so it has been quite a long gestation. I suppose my first encounter with the electoral college sparked my primary rage of injustice, and I began to plot. Now, the book I penned is FAR from the book I originally plotted oh so long ago, but the key values remain: injustice. Disparity. Inequality.
And now we have my little WIP, well, not so little, coming in at around 65k. Bigger than the 2019 attempt for certain, this is a proper novel. And, unbeknown to me in the beginning, it has potential for a sequel now. Not that I am thinking about that at the moment, because I must focus on the major task at hand.
When I was explaining the editing process to Mark and Carey yesterday, Carey noted that it seemed like a lot of work. Mark agreed, adding that he never would have known how much goes into it were he not married to me. See, actually putting the words on the paper, that’s the easy bit…and we have all seen what a struggle that can be. Now comes the hard part, the even greater challenge: the edit.
This is the part where you read back every paragraph four hundred times and it turns to word salad and then you quit writing as a career altogether until Sahar calms you down and then you go back and start reading the next paragraph four hundred times.
Eventually it doesn’t suck just enough, and you send it to Sahar and Mary, and they read it and give you notes, and then you go read it again and make more changes. Maybe once, maybe twice, maybe sixteen times…then you do a final polish and you send it off with hopes and prayers and if you’re lucky, if you’re really really really lucky….someone will pick it up and then you have to edit it all over again for them.
There you have the publishing and marketing end of the biz, which is whole other ball game that you, as a wordsmith, are expected to navigate. So really, in the grand scheme of things, words on paper ain’t no thang.
Anyway…I’m off to read read read my WIP over and over until it becomes gobbledygook. (Yo…fun fact: according to spellcheck, gobbledygook is a legit word.) Hopefully by the end of the week I will remain on target and can say that I have edited a few chapters. Or, I’ve gone insane and Sahar had to make an emergency trip from Cleveland to bring me tea and a thesaurus. We shall see.