May I begin by saying Nancy is furious that I'm writing in this post at all? I'm about to rush out the door for a babyshower thing and then Bible study and she's like "OMGGETREADYIFYOUGOOUTSIDEWITHOUTMAKEUPYOUWILLBEFOREVERSHAMED!!"
Nancy's a little harsh sometimes.
Authors, you all know what's been on my mind lately - and no, I don't mean the deliciousness that is French chocolate cake or Italian gelato - I mean editing. It's what I've been eating, drinking, breathing, and sleeping for quite awhile. (Other than gelato)
I've been asking for awhile how you all edit, author friends, and I've read about it on your blogs (cause I'm creepy like that! mwahaha!) and I've come to the amazing conclusion that.... everyone edits differently. *facepalm*
All right, fine, I'll figure this baby out by myself.
(Oh bloggerland, how I love you! Since I've joined you, I have not only discovered what an atrocity it is to say fiction novel, but also that all right is two words, and should always be. I'm not usually picky about this, but... I feel so self-conscious about it now!)
So... turn down the lights, fire up the candles, pour the champagne, because I think I'm finally getting the hang of this.
I think my problem with editing is that I haven't romanced it enough. Sure...
we've been on a few coffee dates
There's been a couple of walks on the beach (NOT MANY)
and every once and awhile, I've even taken editing to dinner (Trying desperately not to spill ramen noodles on the keyboard.)
But... well, it's all settled into routine, you know? The spark... it's gone. So tonight, I got a little something special planned. ;)
Real attention, not distracted line-editing and adverb-removing.
See, I'm going to start with a scene - just one. Some individual attention, you know? And I'm going give it a complete readover, like I've never read it before. Then I'll take off the old, tired plastic pearls I gave my novel during the first draft, and replace them with diamonds. The diction will sparkle. (sparkle!)
I'll pour the champagne, let the magic flow. I'll put on a little mood music. And baby, we'll fall in love again.
(ooh ooh ooooh - that's a song. Don't you know it?)
When the morning comes, the words may be a little too colorful, the sentences may be a trifle too long, but that... that's the price of love.