The Agony of Editing
With LISHKA still in the hands of beta readers, I find myself paused on obsessing over that particular package of words. In this lull, my thoughts start to inch back to the very rough draft of the book I wrote what now must be almost two years ago: the sequel.
There is a certain energy that steals over me when I am thinking of resuming (or starting) a project. It slides under the skin, restless and itchy and excited all at the same time. I can’t sit still, but I am also not ready to work just yet. My mind drifts back to the ideas in the novel, slowly prepping itself to reenter those characters and world. Yet, even as excitement stirs, I am simultaneously blocked by insecurities and a sudden hate of the draft I initially loved. And I think: this is going to be a lot of work. Am I ready for that?
I find other tasks to ensure I stay ‘productive’. I know I must work on the book, but there are dishes to be cleaned, laundry to be washed and folded. I’ve been trying to read more, and so I tell myself its studying the craft (which is a perfectly acceptable way to procrastinate in my opinion, as writers need to read and surround ourselves with words). I just finished American Gods by Neil Gaiman, and am almost done with The Bone Shard Emperor by Andrea Stewart.
Today though, today I finally sat down to work on the book. What really helped edit LISHKA was visually breaking the book into distinct chapters. I use Google Docs, and so I began the process of creating a doc per chapter on this rough draft. This way, each chapter becomes it’s own bite-sized portion of the story. It’s less overwhelming, and easier to ensure that it is doing what it needs to do in service of the greater whole.
As I copied the novel over, I skimmed through the paragraphs and began to get excited. Yes, it does need a lot of work. But what if, dare I say, I enjoyed it? A part of my reluctance is I just don’t want to put in the work to revisit and rewrite. I mean, it’s a lot of work.
But what if I did?
What if I simply reset my mind to say I’m excited to do this work? I keep wanting to rush this larger story. I fantasize about the books being complete and perfect, exactly as imagined. I've even told my twin: I can’t wait until I can just have them all printed on my bookshelf, and it’s all over. But I know one day I will be done, and I will miss this part, the best part, the part when I can still discover new things in this world. The creation.
So I’m going to try my very best to enjoy it. The purging of the draft was the quick first step. Now I get to taste each word, savor each sentence, immerse myself in the story to make it the best that it can be.
With that, I enter into the phase of editing.
