Today is gray and gloomy, and is the kind of day for curling up on the sofa and watching something set in another time period, preferably produced by the BBC. But it is not that day.
Nope. Today, like the days before it, is for editing.
Yes, I’ve reached that point in the editing process, where escape into someone else’s tidy, edited world sounds much, much nicer than continuing with my own heavy lifting. But if I don’t do it, who will?
We talk about the magic of writing, the flow of writing, which, when you achieve it, is worth twice the price of admission. But we don’t often talk about the work of writing, the grind to get from idea to shining finished product. Not all parts of the process are pretty.
It’s like getting a fish from the water to the table. The steps in the middle aren’t that pleasant, but have to done if you’re going to eat the fish. Not that I’ve ever cleaned a fish. Or eaten a manuscript. I have eaten my words, though I think I may have strayed just a bit from the point here.
Getting a book from concept to finished product is an endurance race, and it’s a race with only yourself. Too many sofa days, and you never get to the end.
So take that, cozy corner.
Have a minute? Watch this video.