The tranquility of a waterfall is the perfect outlet to bathe your brain in the zenith of the moment before you wash it with the tonal sounds of the wind meandering through the tentacles of the universe.
At the close of the last post, I stated that the fat man (moi) had a final aria to perform prior to the intermission of Act III. Suffice to say, to semi-quote a well known lyricist, I can't dance and I certainly can't sing. But what I can do is channel my inner microscopic micro-manager and present to you a blog post on how not to edit like normal folks.
For the past umpteen years (translation: a number between the high end of a tween and mid-nadir of young adulthood), no matter what length of story I had decided to write, a printed copy I did create for editing purposes. I was one those seriously short attention span people who could not stay glued to a computer screen to read a story for longer than ninety seconds (which is why I do not own an e-reader). So editing my work straight up on my computer screen was not a viable option for me employ.
However, what was a viable option for me was to print out a story, use a pen to write copious amounts of notes/make copious amounts of corrections, and then add those edits onto the original computer copy. Simple enough for a short story. But....would that same philosophy apply to something longer than a short story, like a novella or a novel? Well, as you're probably no doubt aware of, the answer to the question is a resounding YES.
Let's use two projects as good examples of this philosophy: an upcoming novella for 2025 and my current five volume (I pinky promise) project that should be finished (I triple dog dare myself) by the end of this month.
Novella: This upcoming 2025 novella has a boatload in common with my 2024 novella: long gestation period (10+ years); no current title after multiple tries (7 I think); no real blurb or synopsis going for it either; lots of R-rated violence, just to name a few. It also has the very odd editing philosophy applied it as well.
So when we were writing draft #4 (I think, maybe it was #5?) we would simply print out each completed chapter, three hole punch that bad boy, pulled out a 1" three ring binder (note, if it says 220pg capacity, they are lying like a sleeping chow-chow), a bunch of dividers, and shmashed it all together into a cohesive pile numbering 126 pages containing just a kiss under 56k words.
In the course of one day, with my handy-dandy generic version of a Bic pen, we took copious amount of notes, circled incorrect words and typos, and generously added blue and black ink to those formerly unblemished pages of a intelligently written story. Those copious notes were actually written on the pages themselves, because you know, short attention span theater here.
Anyways, we washed/rinsed/repeated a few more times before putting this lovely story back into the Comfy Chair's estranged sibling, the Comfy Bed. In total, it took me about three weeks of manual editing before deciding it was (at that time) good enough to move onto the next phase, which were creating a title and synopsis (long and short). Novellas are easy enough to handle without getting a professional involved until you got to the nitty-gritty portion of it.
Now if you thought this was a time consuming and perhaps that time would be better spent editing on the computer, then you're very welcome to your own opinion on performing your editing chores. I, however, found editing on the computer actually hindered my ability to make any kind of writing progress, which was one of the main reasons of editing this way. The other reason was that it was a great meditation tool.
With my current project, with the odd blog tag of Hot Mess, I settled down into a routine of writing two chapters (later expanded to three until constricting back to two), transcribing those chapters, and doing all of the stuff mentioned earlier with the novella before editing. The way it became a meditation tool for me was that until I had finished editing those chapters, I simply did not produce any new writing.
This had produced a few pleasant side effects: 1) it allowed me to concentrate on how each particular plot line needs to move in that particular direction; 2) it allowed me to mentally plot out how best to continue each plot line; and 3) it became my bi-weekly sojourn into non-stressful me time, which was something that I've been able to continue on for the past 2 1/2 years.
So my friends, this is how I edit my work: write it, transcribe it, print it, then manual edit. I should note that I have yet to apply ANY of the editing notes/corrections that I have made so far, as I want to wait until I type in the proverbial, "The End", which marks the completion of this five volume journey. And let me tell you, that's when the genuine milkshake is going to consume the inside of your lungs as you try to inhale that goodness through the straw, because the edits I have to apply will, at the very end, make me want to pluck out my mustache follicles with my fingernails.
Happy Monday to one and all.
I always print out my work, whatever the length. Sometimes twice. I can edit some things on the computer, but other issues I will see better on the printed page.
ReplyDeleteDefinitely agree with that sentiment. I'm still finding a few typos when I was referencing my novella, so I'll have to do another round of editing. It may be more time consuming the old fashioned way, but it leads to a better outcome overall.
Delete