Tag: editing

The Writing Moment

Back into the groove again, my little chicklets. I reduced my writing time while I was in Pittsburgh visiting and helping Mom, especially so in the final week. Figured I’d gone there to visit with her, so I needed to shift priorities and reduce my writing (grimace, grimace) and pay attention to her and her life. But now I’ve returned to Ashlandia and the writing and editing scene. Up to page 508 of 590, or over 86%. Probably complete it by week’s end.

And then I’ll turn around and begin again. Number 7.

Each time has felt good, like I’ve progressed in the story telling, and improved the elements. Of course, I’m the mother, so what else would be expected of me but to have pride in my baby? I’m also terrified because what if I’m totally wrong about what I’ve written and I’m deluding mysef about it, and it’s actually a stinking pile of garbage?

I don’t know how much it really matters about its quality. I’m having fun, meeting the challenge, and pressing on.

And that’s what I set out to do.

Cheers

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The Writing Moment

Revision work on the novel in progress, Memories of Why, continues. I work on it everyday. 40% completed, I’m being a tortoise in this endeavor, slow and steady. Not infrequently, I read and revise a chapter three or four times. I mostly did this because it was overwritten to hell and needs to have overbearing words cut away.

But it’s satisfying and entertaining, and keeps me out of trouble, so I’ll keep on keeping on.

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The Writing Moment

Dealing with a bad muse today. Experienced with my buttons, she’s pushing them to get her way.

See, I should be editing and revising. It’s round number five on this novel in progress. It’s coming along well but it has a big appetite for my time. I hope, with another round or two, that I’ll have a finished tale that satisifes me. But that comes with a big sigh cuz I’m a little weighed down with the novel. Sixty pages of editing remain of a section which was expanded and shifted in the last two go-arounds. Complicated, they were sloppy and overwritten so I’m addressing what I see. It’s satisfying but tedious.

Bad Muse knows this. She knows that I’m addicted to the creativity experienced while writing a new novel. So Bad Muse is pushing buttons to continue with a new novel in progress. “It’s going well,” she croons, “and it’s fun. Time away from that other one will give you distance and you’ll find the editing is more easily done.”

I don’t know if her logic is right but I don’t like her tone when she says ‘that other one’. So disdainful. Not calling it a novel. Not even referencing it as a book or manuscript. Like she’s talking about another woman, a past girlfriend or wife or such. Oddly, that tone cements a decision that I’m going to edit ‘that other one’.

Take that, Bad Muse.

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The Writing Moment

I was chatting with a writing friend this morning. Well, he’s a friend who is also a writer and was a pro editor working for one of the major publishers. He’d called to ask for help with a non-writing problem but we always talk of writing, editing, publishing, and books when we encounter one another in any venue.

I told him that the new novel is going fast. It seems and feels like an easy write. We chatted about the merits of fast or easy writing and and slow, meticulous writing. After hanging up and writing today, I realized how I’d misinterpreted my own writing process on the new book.

Yes, it is fast writing, but before I type out the words, there’s huge chunks of long, deep thoughts about where it’s at and where it’s going. As I began today, I wrestled with direction, because about a dozen volunteer plotpoints and character arcs have bloomed in my mind. I write fast because they have strong roots and I’m eager to cover them all. The session writing quickly turns immersive and intense. Regret washes through me when it’s over. So much remains to be written, it feels unfair that I must stop.

But, that’s the writing life.

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The Writing Moment

It was the best of stuff and the worse of crap.

I’m working on two items in parallel: a new novel and a finished novel now undergoing its fifth revision.

The new project has that exciting blush attached. Unencumbered by an ending, story and characters emerge through flash floods of thoughts and poured through fingers and keyboards into the ‘puter, evolving into a novel. Great, let’s keep it going. It’s the fun, creative part, where anything goes. I’ll see if it works later.

Meanwhile, on the editing side, I’m facing the dark side of my process. The chapter under the knife in the finished novel makes me gag and cringe. What happened here? Why isn’t it working, I whine to myself. Can no one save me? Or it?

No, this is up to me. After working on it the other day, I shut it down and told myself, leave it for a bit. Let it vacate my mind. Let it ferment untouched and see what happens after the interval. Perhaps insights will arrive; or maybe it won’t seem as bad.

Good plan but when I took it back up, insights were like peace talks with Russia: nothing there. And it was just as bad as before. As waiting didn’t work, I’ve concluded, I’ll increase focus and concentration, drop back one chapter, and read back into it. On reflection, after writing that, I can see that I was confused about what I was writing about, feeling through it, and unsuccessfully capturing and refining what I know, what I’m showing, and its impact on the story. Part of that is that although the novel is in its fifth cycle of revision and editing, this chapter was added in during the fourth round. I thought it was needed; I still feel it might be, but I’m flexible on the matter. I’ll see how it flows.

Alright, time to coffee up so I can novel up and work through this revision.

Happy writing, y’all. Cheers

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The Writing Moment

It’s hard to stop writing when it’s blistering along but the allocated time has skidded to an end. Difficult to push the pause button while editing and revising the other project when the timing bell rings to announce, move on to the next matter.

Doesn’t help that the muses are especially active, like they’ve been gorging on chocolate cake and chugging coffee. They just don’t want to stop and it pains me to tell them that I am.

I need a longer day or the means to carve time out of everything else going on. How much sleep is really needed anyway?

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