Merrily Hacking Away

I'm almost finished with my second draft. That happy moment is so close I could sink my fangs into it. I'm giddy. Well...as giddy as someone whose wardrobe consists of varying shades of black can be.

Today I thought we'd discuss the editing process. My editing process. It's changed some over the years, but I finally have a schedule that works for me. So pull up a coffin and let's get down to it.

First and foremost, I wander the forests of First Draft Land, skipping merrily without a care in the world. I write without concern over perfect punctuation and ideal sentence structure. It's a happy place to be--one I always long for when I trudge forward, into Revision Land.

Revision Land is a horrible, ugly place. It's filled with inner critics and the realization that I can't write to save my life, that I'm nothing more than a talentless bonehead who shouldn't have made the dire mistake of thinking, for once, that I could actually put word to page successfully. This realization, of course, is foolish and inspired by the inner critics. But a little duct tape goes a long way and eventually I'm plowing my way through the manuscript, snipping bits of telling and reworking details until the plot has no holes. I go over spelling, punctuation, sentence structure--get it to where I'm close to thinking that I may be finished. I do a book-read (print out the second draft and read it like it's an actual book--not allowing myself to hold a red pen at any cost) and then, dear minions, I tumble straight into Reader Land.

In Reader Land, I hand my manuscript to Those I Have Deemed Befitting. I drum my fingers on my desktop until they are but bloody little stubs or until all of the readers get back to me with their thoughts--whichever comes first. Once I receive their critiques (which I always welcome--I have a sick desire to be cruelly criticized. Seriously, the more problems a reader comes up with, the happier I am. Mistakes I can fix. Mistakes no one mentions? Not so much), I go over everything they've said, see if there are any similar problems listed, and give myself a few days to let it soak in. I rework any last little tweaks, give it one more book-read and I'm good to go.

All that drags me, quivering, bleeding and broken, to the doorstep of Query Land.

I can hardly wait.