Not dripping armpits hard, or pebble in the mouth for moisture hard, or even quivering muscles exhausted. I guess that means it’s not really hard. /sigh.
But, dag nab it, it sure does feel hard. I mean, my brain hurts and stuff.
Today I’m reading like a new reader. I have to forget everything about this in book world, then try to understand what’s going on solely by the words on the page, or iPad. I’m preparing for my writer’s group tomorrow, and I’m not going to subject them to the full ~2.5k words in the first chapter, maybe half.
Why do I even care? This book is about a phony world with phony problems and phony peoples. I might have more fun directing my own characters in the personal movie known as WoW. Or try Terra. Or LoL.
Ok. Break time. I needs a new attitude.
I added necessary content between paragraphs. Mortar. (Metaphor care of a fellow blogger). It is good mortar. The consistency was right. It was firm enough to maintain space between a couple bricks. I’ve not removed the excess. I’m an apprentice mason. This means my set of tools are new but limited. It also means that I have more mortar stains on me jeans. I’m making slow progress, but this wall is going to be as straight as I am able. In the near future, I want the master mason to check my work. Next brick. That is all.
I am finding this process of editing the ~70k words of content into scenes, then chapters, is very different than re-writing (or righting) poetry. Though I’ve written poetry/lyrics off and on since 8th grade, I’ve never published. I guess that means I don’t really know what I’m doing? Who cares. Writing is cheaper than therapy, and the page also says “go on…” Sheesh.
Here’s my unqualified, non-expert experience.
When “righting” poetry I’ve gone through 8+ drafts before I give up, or conclude I’m only doing more damage, or decide its the best I can produce at this stage of my development. Or as my piano teacher used to say, “your best decomposition.” Poetry editing is more about painting, and sound, taste, metaphor and rhythm to me. I want to take some emotions and loosely wrap them up in images for readers to set free.
Editing this book seems more about, “why is this paragraph here?”, “how does it help the scene/chapter/book?”, “what the hell are you talking about here?”, “does anyone really care if the protag has nose hairs?”, “did the previous paragraph provide a bridge”, “adverbs? we don’t want no stinking adverbs”, “do I feel like reading the next paragraph, or throwing the book in the compost pile?”
As always. This is juts my writing diary and I want to capture how I am feeling along the route toward finishing this book. Thanks for riding along.
Didn’t get as much time as I’d like tonight, but still made good progress on three paragraphs. I am beginning to improve my output. No worries. I think the dialogue heavy scenes will likely go faster. I journey on.
Phew. A couple of good nights under the belt. Not necessarily high quantity output, put I am happy with the quality, and I think I get the editing process. Well, I get it better than I did on Friday. I am hoping to have Chapter one completed by end of day Saturday for my writer’s group on Sunday afternoon.
A couple writers I know here on wp are close to publishing.
Check them out.
And another who recently published:
Hmm. I think I wore myself out yesterday by trying to edit the entirety of chapter one. Kind of my optimism was bigger than brain. Which is ok. I get the whole word count targets when you are dashing through the snow with you initial content. But, is there a good rule of thumb for number of paragraphs to edit in a day? My thumbs are sore. I need a rule.
Maybe five paragraphs a day? Thoughts? Like any big task, I need to break it down into smaller pieces so I don’t chew too much at once and get sore jaw muscles. Suggestions appreciated. Thx
I am dehydrated. My eyes, ears and butt hurt. But, I feel good about the progress today. I edited fearlessly and dispassionately (mostly). Man that’s a bunch of unnecessary adverbs. The break was good for me. I was able to expunge some of my little darlings from the chapter I am editing. I’m trying to cut everything that doesn’t move the story line forward. It is tough, and I’m a newbie (sort of). I am used to doing multiple rewrites on poetry. Prose is the new animal to skin. bleagh.
But, this seems like burpees, where writing seemed like a series of cross-country races.