I reached the last page of the manuscript yesterday, much faster than I’d expected to. Today I started at the beginning again, working through my revision notes. I started to write the first new scene I thought needed to be added and, well…no. It doesn’t. I actually did what I wanted to do in that chapter already. Just a moment of doubt that let me believe I needed to draw it out. A new scene would have accomplished only that–drawn it out. Not my style. So that was crossed off the revision list. The second new scene does need to be there, though, and I’m taking a quick breather right now before diving in to that.
It won’t be very long at all now before it’s ready to go back to my agent. And if she agrees it’s ready to go out to editors, the truly scary part begins. But at least then I get to pick up the next book, the one that’s been waiting somewhat impatiently while I worked through this revision. (Ah, seems only yesterday that the current novel was the one pulling at my sleeve while I worked through revisions on Drowning Practice for Gail.) The one down side to jumping into the next book as soon as a manuscript goes out into the world is that when the inevitable revisions come, that new project has to sit and cool its heels, and it takes time to work your way back into it when its turn comes round again.
I love the current book. LOVE it. It is truly the best novel I am capable (right now) of writing, and I’m kind of kicking ass on the revision. (Thank you, Katie, for inspiring me to adopt your retyping method.) But honestly? I’ve been living in this world, with these characters, for so long. I really am looking forward to moving on to the next story.
Congratulations! (from way down south)
Loving your work is a fine thing. But in one way it is like a child, or a pet. You always love it, but aren’t there times when you are just so sick of it, he, she that you need to get away. Unlike a child or a pet, sometimes when you come back to a work later, after it’s published, most of what you feel are personal recriminations about all the things you could have done so much better if you’d kept at it longer.
For this reason, among others, I have never again looked at a page of any of my books after the final proof of the loose galleys. The covers are framed and added to others on the wall of my office, my freebie copies of the books go into a box, with one each on a shelf, and that’s the end of it.
Moving on, always moving on.
Proof you have not died and not been told.
See, the retyping method sounds so attractive to me, but I think it also sounds CRAZY. Tell me a little more? Do you write the whole first draft and then mark that up and THEN retype, incorporating edits? Didn’t it take forever? Gah. The reason I’m so attracted to it is that I think it’s probably the best way to go, which means I’ll have to do it, and I don’t want to! I’m dragging my heels. You felt the same way, right?
I’m glad it is working for you. Your novel is already great–so I can well imagine how much better it is getting as you find that certain clarity and balance between plot and pace and language.
I have the opposite task of removing all the flab right now. I wish I had some idea of how to go about it or that I was excited to be learning something new.
Wow. I gotta say that I keep feeling impressed and somewhat overwhelmed by the speed and energy with which you’ve been tackling these revisions.
I’m finding it fairly daunting, and a slog, just to get through some short story revisions for grad school applications.
yay – congrats on the progress. and on your excitement to be moving forward on to the next project. work like that – where it is exciting to look forward and anticipate your next move – is something you’re lucky to have.