"I am at a loss to conceive how a man should permit himself to write anything that would be truly disgraceful to a woman, or why a woman should be censured for writing anything that would be proper and becoming for a man."

11 August 2011

Meanwhile, in the Depths of Editing...

As previously mentioned, I (perhaps foolishly, perhaps brilliantly) agreed to have a readable first draft of Novel the First completed in a couple weeks. After the initial shock of it all, I planned out a rough timeline of how to accomplish said goal.

Week one (now): Scan through binary (i.e. computer-stored) draft, seeking out obvious spelling and grammar issues, major plots holes, items that still need explaining, and logistical problems. If a solution cannot be found to one of the non spelling/grammar issues, mark it, describe the issue, and move on for now.

Week two (next week): Compare edits made on printed draft to those done above. Correct further grammar issues. Hopefully find solution to a few of the other problems.

Week three (oh, lord...): Fix all the things. All the things? Yes. Fix all the things like a mother-effing adult! All the things... or at least as many as I can.

Week four (I predict): Send this wicked child out to be viewed by other eyes. Panic. Begin work on query letters. Panic more. Drink. A lot.

Progress is... progressing. Not at the present moment, obviously. This is in part due to the fact that I have entered the repeated 'shit hitting the fan' section of the book (i.e. the last third) and even in Editor Mode there's a lot of emotional turmoil happening to the characters and it's difficult to look at that with a completely disconnected eye. It's the first time I've really done that to characters I created, so I'm quite new to this feeling.
Still, I continue to press on... or did until I decided to pick up A Feast for Crows and finally finish it. Getting my head out of Westeros is proving difficult. But hey, if I want throngs of readers to one day have themselves sucked into worlds I create because I nurtured those worlds, and my writing, then by the seven I shall find a way to exist in both realms.

After all, when your mind races with thoughts of your own writings along with thoughts of a master's, sleep is irrelevant, right?

Edit all the things!
Fix all the things!
Defend the Wall... erm, all the things!

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