edit my novel

I have finished the first read through of my novel. All 340 pages of it! I’ve done 86 pages in the last two days.

That just goes to show that it is possible, even if it feels like it isn’t. To be truthful, those 86 pages were about reading through, making notes and commenting upon things I liked and didn’t like—not writing new material or even rewriting old material. But still. 86 pages.

Hopefully, I will be able to take the momentum of those final pages and start working on the beginning again. There will be many changes, the most extreme being the point of view. But I also have to do a lot of continuity work, since so many of my ideas changed over the course of writing. And I want to add in some parts that show the institutions they live in and live with—so I don’t have to bore the reader with all the formality. I can just have pieces where we see formal announcements, documents, correspondence, etc. Not sure if they will all be public things, or if we will hear a little about private or secret documents. Maybe a little later on in the novel so that the sinister nature of the Republic starts to come clear.

See, I have been doing a lot of thinking about the book, as I’ve gone skimming through the pages.

Keep the momentum. Keep the momentum.

Yesterday, I revised 30 pages. And it wasn’t some special day where I had hours off from the kids. This was simply because I took my novel and a pen to bed with me, and that was how I wound down. I thought I was going to get tired and pass out like usual, but I got into it.

Today, I just got through another twenty pages or so and I only have 30some pages left in my first read through!!!!!

Holy Frickin’ Shafizzle!

And it’s not even 11 pm. I could conceivably finish my first revision tonight! And then I can cross of my goal of editing my novel and start a new goal of writing the second draft. That is really exciting. I could even, maybe possibly, have a readable second draft done or partly done by the end of September. Or even October, if I am willing to give up part of October, which I had planned for plotting and development of book two. But the writing of book one can definitely contribute the the movement of book two.

That’s exciting.

What’s also exciting is that the end of my book is WAAAAAAYYYY better than the middle, which sucks, and much better than the beginning, which is skimpy with undeveloped characters. While reading through the ending, I actually got the feeling that I was reading a real science fiction novel, like a published one. Cool.

And I’ve come to some decisions. I need to make this all from the pov of the youngest sister. She needs to be with the other two sisters often. Then we will get the older sister’s POVs through dialogue, not navel gazing and exposition… always two things that I rely too much on. And the ironic thing is, I’m actually pretty good at dialogue, but I’m such a Hamlet overthinker myself that my characters always talk talk talk—to themselves. Soliloquy central.

I just hope that I remember there is nothing to be scared of. And I hope I remember how much I like the end of this book, and that the story is not the tripe that I often fear it is.

It’s all okay, we can whip it into shape. Woo hoo! Charge!

I only have 86 more pages to go before I’ve finished my first revision pass through.

I thought I had another 200 pages to go!

You mean I can start rewriting the bugger soon?

A bit farther, actually. Add around 40pages from the first section that isn’t counted in my wordcount. But I’ll stick to saying 172 for organizationals purposes.

It’s been painful. I do a lot of avoiding. But I think last night I came to realize that what I need to do is focus on the large picture. And I shouldn’t freak out about the feeling that my book sucks. I need to fix the problems. Work on character. Keep the conflict, rather than making the characters all nicey n ice. Add details.

All in all, none of the problems are fatal. All fixable. My second pass, when I actually RE-WRITE the whole thing will be when I can fix it up.

In my dreams, I use September to do that… at least part of it.

I want to get my writing habit back up. I don’t really expect myself to be able to all of a sudden start writing a novel from zero, do I? Where am I going to find the time? I have to build the habit up, and I think I’m going to need some time to do so.

I am nervous about Nanowrimo. I’m afraid that I won’t be up to it.

Piffle.

I don’t need to indulge in baseless fears. Last November, I wrote twice as much as I needed to. If I can write an hour a day, I can get it done. I don’t know if you can tell by my posts, but I write a lot. And I do it fast. I am a proliic writer… I just have a problem finishing and showing my work.

So, yeah. Back to the editing. I really have to commit to doing it, even when I’m tired, or wanting to do something not as confrontational.

Which is pretty good. I could whip the whole thing out in a weekend… if I didn’t have two babies, and household responsibilities and you know, a life.

If it were three years ago, I could have done it. Sigh. No use wishing for that time back. I made good use of the freedom when I had it. I just didn’t realize I had something so valuable. I didn’t consider that someday I wouldn’t have the opportunity to dive into projects and lose myself in them. Or be able to concentrate on a big project for a length of time.

For all you 43Thingers out there who are in the explore and adventure phase of your life, take advantage of it, and realize that you have something precious. Don’t wish for another life, live the one you have.

Now, that’s what I’m going to do with this mommy life that I have now. It just takes some adjusting.

Sometimes, I had to work through my constant cringes. Oy. Sometimes I don’t like it at all. Sometimes it’s okay. Sometimes I really like it. The writing needs serious work, that’s for sure. SDT is my favorite comment (Show Don’t Tell.)

The rewriting is a different phase, all together though. I don’t have the time or the room in my head to do rewriting right now. I don’t even really know what the story is. I’ve forgotten it.

I am worried that I will not have the power of concentration that I used to have. I don’t seem to be able to focus down tight enough to make all the pieces fit together.

Maybe I’m a little self critical right now. I am sleep deprived, since one or the other kid was up and awake from 12:30 to 4:30 this morning. Ug.

Ten pages a day. I thik that’s what is called for. I think that’s like half an hour.

I need to break out my old graphs and charts to keep track so I can see my progress concretely. And my timer. I’m sure Rome was built in 15 minute increments. Many, many 15 minute increments.

I’ve been noticing that my main character—the one that I initially thought of when I started writing is the worst character. Her scenes are the sketchiest, her personality the flattest, her motivations the most forced. However, her two sisters, who are the other two main characters, have caught my inspiration more and more. I was thinking about dropping the middle sister, but she is necessary to further the action of the story. She’s a catalyst.

I think the reason why she is the most boring is because she is the character who is most closely based on myself. I mean, all characters are partly the author, but this is the one who is the “me,” and I think because of that, she becomes a cipher. I can’t see her from the outside, so I just can’t really see her at all. It’s something my writing has suffered from before, not a new problem at all. The other issue I’ve had in my writing is writing “around” the heart of the matter, and then when I get to the real rough stuff—the pain, the meat, the moment—I rush right through it.

Writing brings up so many of your personal issues. Anyone who has ever said writing is easy either has never written, or is rather oblivious to their own psychology. When I was a kid, writing was easy. The ignorant are blessed in this situation.

But now I know my problems, and I can see my character who isn’t there. I’m hoping that as I read the rest of the novel, she will become clearer to me… I seem to remember that her character made a lot more sense to me as I wrote the novel. It’s just been so long since I wrote it, and I wrote it so quickly that I don’t remember her, I just remember a vague sense of plot.

Blarg.

The only hope for my troubles is a straight forward one—

START WORKING SISTER!

It is now 8pm. So You Think You Can Dance isn’t on until 9pm. I am going to TURN OFF THE TV and work on my book for one hour. Yes. Yes. I am.

I might have some cookies and an iced coffee to go with it. Yes, yes. That sounds like it would hit the spot and give my lagging energy a jolt.

Edit. Right. Now.

Yes.

How do I edit a novel when my brain is made of mushy pancakes and my time is taken up by pancake-refusing toddlers and babies who spit up a substance that is suspiciously like pancake batter?

I honestly do not know if it possible. I am reading through the book. I’m up about a hundred pages, but even that is very difficult. I sneak in a few minutes here and there. But I’m so tired on a general basis that I don’t have the get up and go to really tackle it. I think.

Is that just an excuse? Could I still do it? Do I need to take myself and my book more seriously?

I am suspicious that I can do it. Maybe not in a month, but maybe I need to let go of the story that I am soooooo tired. It’s hard, since I really am, but does it need to be the excuse for not being who I really want to be?