It took a real rough patch to get me rolling on the editing process but I feel like I’ve finally hammered out a solid plan for doing work.
Here’s how it went down:
Before I even started writing I spent a month scribbling out a fat stack of note cards with every scene I wanted to include. After getting the plot out on note cards I dropped the writing machine into sixth gear and didn’t quit for three months. Bam! That’s 120,000 words just ninety days. Not too shabby for a guy who has trouble focusing on one thing for very–holy crap, did you see that bird?
Bad thing was, those three months killed my brain meats like I’d been sippin’ on some sizzurp. I needed a break. I decided to chillax on it for a while–sit back and leave the dang thang alone, you feel me? Much smarter people than I suggest leaving the first draft alone for a solid month, so that’s what I did. I didn’t touch it. I didn’t talk about it. I didn’t even stop to smell it (okay, I smelled it once, but it was only for a second). I spent that month reading books about editing and trying to work on a couple of other projects until my brain meats recovered.
When I felt the juices had been recharged in my brain I decided the time for editing had come!
Oh man, I wish just deciding to do it had been all I’d needed to be a good editor. I wish I wish I wish! But alas, it wasn’t. Editing was something that was going to make me want to kick a kitten (just kidding!). I needed to learn about it by failing, flailing, and then crying myself to sleep.
No, it wasn’t actually that serious. It’s been frustrating at times, but not so frustrating that I want to quit.
But more on that tomorrow. Except the kitten kicking part. And the crying.
Well, maybe not the crying.