So, yesterday, I forced myself back into the editing process. It was a mighty struggle. Okay, it really wasn't that bad, but mighty struggle makes it sound - at least to me - all dramatic. I'm all about the drama. Okay, maybe I'm not all about the drama, I leave that up to my 5 year old niece. Trust me, she has the drama queen thang down pat. My poor sister. She had to wait until her 40s to have children - one girl and one boy, who is all boy. Of course, the rest of us just sit back with amused grins on our faces. There's also a reason I stuck with cats and dogs. I'm just saying . . .
Yesterday I edited Chapter One of the very, very, very rough draft of a project I wrote a few months ago. For a change, I didn't write so many words per day, I didn't set daily/weekly goals, I just wrote. I think I pounded out the rough draft in a little over 30 days. Now, technically, the pounding out was a somewhat edit where I took an old draft and revitalized it with some ingenious new ideas. Yes, ingenious, get over it! There was some cutting and pasting from one draft to the new rough draft, but not as much as you might think. In the end, this story that I once thought so brilliant took on a new and vibrant (nope, no Bailey's in my coffee this morning) life that amazed even me. That happens a lot when I write. I'm always amazed at the depths of depravity I find in my imagination. Ooops, did I actually write that sentence. Inner voice, inner voice, fingers stop typing. Seriously, though, I am often amazed at what pops into my mind and flows down to my fingers to get typed across the laptop screen. Who knew what a childhood spent reading could do for the imagination?
The new story (at least in my sometimes, not often, humble opinion) flows so much better and makes so much more sense. I sometimes think that rough drafts should be set aside for years. When I initially came up with the original concept for this project (years and years and years ago), I was a different writer. My writing has evolved over the years. I think some of my best writing - EVER - has occurred in the last few years. I know I'm damned proud of the project I currently have out for query. I really do think that that project is some of the best writing I ever did. I took that brilliance (my blog, I can say what I want about my writing) and infused it into the project I am currently editing. That melding of two styles of writing, two different projects, became something so different from my original intent. I am content with that difference and with (at least at this moment in time) the end result.
My plans are to edit a chapter a day, maybe more on the weekends, as I somehow attempt to recreate the balance I strive for in this life - work, partner, animals, life itself, writing, margaritas with the boyz, and all that jazz. Balance is essential. Somewhere along the way, I lost my balance. I did not make a big SPLAT as I fell, just tumbled a little from the balance I vowed to maintain in this crazy life. I took time away from writing to immerse myself in reading - something I haven't done in a long while. It felt good to lose myself in the words of other authors. I'm on Book 9 of the Stephanie Plum series. I'm not totally immersing myself in the reading any longer. I'm stepping away and finding time to let my imagination delve into my own words/worlds. I'm feeling the energy, the feeling of satisfaction, as my eyes read my words and as my fingers make the necessary adjustments that will hone the rough draft into a more perfect brilliance that will stun agents and leave them speechless (in a good way).
So, with that thought, I bid you adieu for the moment. It's 10 AM and I haven't had breakfast yet. Soon, the sound of bacon sizzling in the frying pan will be heard in the kitchen. YUM!