Editing the Novel of DOOM

Where I Am: spread all over the dining room table (well, my laptop, manuscript, and other papers - not me personally)

What I'm Listening To: silence and a constant inner monologue that goes something like, "Erk. Oh, seriously? Geez..."



Editing. Ugh. I'm sure I don't have any new things to add to the litany of whining that generally makes up any conversation between writers on the subject of editing. Suffice to say, I don't like it either.

What does interest me is the totally different perspective I have on a scene that I wrote lo, these many months ago, now that I've had some time to separate myself from it. Sometimes, I think, "Eh, doesn't stink, but it's a little clunky." Other times, I think, "Okay. I'll buy that." There are even a few rare and wonderful moments when I read a few lines and just grin from ear to ear. "YES!" Right now, I'm grappling with a scene that just makes me cringe. I don't know what in the world I was thinking when I wrote it. It's bad. BAD, I tell you. It's like every new author boo-boo ever known all in the span of about three paragraphs. Whoa.

I suppose I should rejoice that I can recognize the problems now. I've come a long way, baby. Really, I am pleased about that part. But, oh my goodness, rewriting that section is daunting. It's that whole fragile self-confidence thing again.

"If it was that terrible then and you didn't see it, what terrible thing are you doing now that you still don't see?"

Thank goodness I have several good friends waiting in the wings to critique this thing for me. Good friends who will tell me the truth, even if it is embarrassing for all concerned.

Now, back to work.

Self-Doubt Is So Predictable

Where I Am: family room (where I usually am this time of evening)

What I'm Listening To: the parrot chattering in the next room


This isn't anything new. I know it's not. In fact, I've experienced varieties of this before. It's the Ever-Horrible Self-Doubt. Ungh.

You know the scenario, right? You stare at your manuscript and think, "Dear heavens, what was I thinking? What ever made me believe this was a good idea? Do I even know what I'm doing here? Geez..." This goes on for awhile until you drag yourself off to bed where a decent night's sleep restores your sense of humor about the whole thing.

Tonight, I am having a new round of doubts. My first draft is complete and I've begun the editing. If you'd asked me a few hours ago, I'd have told you it was coming along well and that I felt I had a pretty good handle on what needed to be done. That, however, was a few hours ago. Now, I'm not so sure. Worse still, I feel as if I may have, through my inexperience and questionable skill, led another writer astray. Logically, I know this is nonsense. My manuscript is on the right track, I'm not completely lacking in skill (though I am inexperienced), and I haven't led anyone anywhere.

The problem is, a manuscript that I have critiqued extensively has been turned down again, this time after a request for a partial. The agent liked the premise but felt the writing didn't draw her in. To this, I thought, "WHAT??? How? Why? Did we read the same book?" *SIGH*

Doggone it, I think this manuscript is good. Now, if this was the first agent who said he/she was not drawn into the story, I'd ignore it. But since this has been said several times now, I guess notice must be taken. Frankly, I feel guilty about it. I didn't think it was hard to get into. I enjoyed it. Does this mean that the manuscript is fine and simply hasn't found its home yet or does it mean I am woefully incompetent? Tonight, I am unsure of the answer.

I expect that a good night's sleep will be the cure for this crisis as it has been for the others. Tomorrow, it will likely look a lot better and, who knows? I may even have some exciting new insights or something. Stranger things have happened. But for the moment, I feel inept, inadequate, and a lot of other 'in' words that aren't good things to feel.