27 October 2006
I’ve given myself two mornings of break in reward for my exploits on Wednesday morning. Wednesday morning, I wrote an entire short story, which in and of itself is impressive for me considering my other two recent short stories went over thirty pages. This one was barely onto the sixth page. Woot! True, I wrote it between 3:00 and 4:00 in the morning, but I won’t hold that against myself. I’ll let it sit its six weeks and then give it a first-pass edit.
My editing process is probably too extensive for some people, but it’s the only way I can be completely happy with my own work and even consider letting anyone else read it. I kind of broke my editing rule recently, though, when I let my friend Dave take a look at what I wrote Wednesday morning. I need to get better at saying no. Wednesday afternoon when my wife, Kori, called I asked her to take a read of that story. She got lost and found “Cruel Contracts” instead of “Infinity Police.” She was quite impressed with the opening of the story, though, so I’m happy to see that she feels I’m improving.
I don’t write for her, per ce, I write for me. I write because I have to. But she is my wise reader, to use the Scott Card term. She is my first edit and I am glad. It seems because she does not read a lot of speculative fiction, that she can truly give an objective eye to the read. I only let her read it, usually, after my first-pass, six-week edit is complete. Then once she has made her read and commentary, I input her edits (and any more of my own that come to me at the time I am inputting hers) and then I let it sit for at least another six weeks. Then make one-more edit-pass and hand it back to Kori. Again she reads, comments, and again I put in her changes.
It’s after Kori’s second read-through I usually invite my friends to read my stuff. So my letting David read my story was kind of off my normal schedule. It kind of threw me for a bit of a loop. I still haven’t heard back from him. Nor have I heard back from the stupid mistake I made in leaving all my stories up to the point I left Rio Tinto. I told my friend there, another David, he could read my stories. He took me at my word. So, whether ready or not, I am going to be read. I’m strapping on my helmet for the pencil rain to begin.
Labels: NaNoWriMo
