>While J reads Tessa and makes any final changes before I submit it somewhere, I’m rereading Take it All in small batches, trying to figure out how to go about the editing. I’m interested in doing the one-pass rewrite, but I’m starting to think it’s impossible and a little bit ridiculous. A little like cooking an entire meal, and then thinking that just adding a little gravy and salt here and there will make it edible. Not happening.
And here’s the crux of the matter: I’ve been listening to Sandra Brown’s book, Envy, again on CD, and it’s so good, I’m getting a little depressed. The language is lyrical (with very few adverbs for a change…a great editor finally chopped out some of the annoying verbiage her stories–I have actually cringed while reading some of the adverbs in her books–Envy, thankfully, seems to be almost annoying adverb-free) and the plot is engaging, the characters real and interesting…I’m getting more depressed just thinking about it. For all the nasty things I just said about her writing, she’s still written at least two fantastic stories–Chill Factor and Envy. If I could write like that, I wouldn’t have gray hair. Hey, Envy is not Gone With The Wind, but it’s a fine book. And the guy reading it is wonderful. Oh, an important side note: romance writers should all have men read their manuscripts out loud.
And when I reread my first draft of Take, all I can think is, “Oye vey. What a stinking pile! How to attack this?? Every sentence needs work…every image is vague and uninteresting. And I have my own word problems…all forms of “to be” currently my favorite verbs, being just one of them. Every bit of it is CRAP! There is NO HOPE!”
I wish I had a nickel for every time I felt like this.
But I persevere. I think I’m going to try to do 10 pages a day on the rewriting of Take; just small chunks at a time. Maybe I can make it sing in small clumps…or at least not make my head and heart ache with its discordance.
So goes today’s litany of frustration…but one amazing thing has happened over the past year: I’ve begun to recognize the crap when I see/hear it. That’s progress. Hope lives on…