So here it is:
With one book coming out, another with my editor (which will soon be back with me), and a third that I'm editing to submit, I've been thinking about editing a lot lately.
When my brain is not stopping me in the middle of the rest of my life and saying, "AH! I think she needs to be laced up the FRONT not the BACK!" or "You know, that cute toddler needs to throw a tantrum....every day!" or "Wait, does she even know he used to have a twin?" I also think about how to edit.
I'm not a plotter. I am not 100% pantser either.
Pantser: one who writes by the seat of his/her pants. That's trousers to you British-speakers. A trouser-er?
I tend to think of a couple of characters, think about what will happen when I drop them into their world, think of the main plot, and then the subplots and 500 secondary characters show up. And I figure out the culprit (if there's a mystery) sometime near the end.
The first draft wanders, meanders, goes off cliffs, backs up, starts over, and is highlighted in red because really I'm going to have to cut those pages later....maybe.
NaNoWriMo 2015 is coming up. I always try to clear my calendar and get at least 50,000 words done, which is a huge chunk of a rough draft. The goal of NaNo is to get your fingers flying and your internal editor out of the game. I find I write by fits and starts. If I get stuck, I have to walk away for a while.
My approach to editing:
First pass: Reread the manuscript. Fix awkward sentences, notice that Chapter Three could be a summary that says, "Are we there yet?" twenty times. Marvel at my fabulous story-telling skills. Think of a hundred things I meant to say. Keep flipping back to the beginning and to note stuff that needs to layer in right from the start. And the bad guys still need names. Xavier and Yves, the nasty dudes in Indispensable Wife started out as X, Y, and Z. Z disappeared, unlamented, in edits. Put in clues and red herrings.
Third through ninth pass: Still not totally working for me... I should do A. I should erase the B. That secondary character needs his own point of view. We need some more scenes about C. I need to add a secondary character who will be in a later book, whose first draft I started. And she has a brooch! It's important!
I drop into the middle of the book, take a look around, and blow it up. I'll either knock it down to rebuild it or build from where it is. Ditto for the turning points at approximately 25% and 75% of the book. It's time for analysis and making sure the chapters aren't either 2 pages long or 35. Lots of considerations.
Tenth pass: I think I'm about done. I am wrong, of course. Time for my critique partners to read it!
Synopsis: Writing a synopsis is its own ring of hell. But in some ways, it helps clarify what that book was about. Oh lordy, I hate synopsis writing. I'm good at long form, not summaries. OK, OK, take out the subplots. And the important stuff. And...yes, tell not show.
This is both the most boring and the vaguest synopsis ever in the history of writing.
Blurb: Seriously? The whole story? In 200-ish words? I mean, where are the secondary characters and plot lines? What do you mean, I have to try to make people read this book? Are you TRYING to make me cry?
It's a cliché. The whole thing is a cliché. My writing is a cliché. I'm doomed.
Logline: I... One sentence?... No more...I can't... Please...stop... Kill me now...
And then revisions come from critique partners and my editor. And I start all over again.
Yes, this is totally a messed-up process which takes a long time.
I'm going to have to come up with a better process. I need to find the process that takes me
in a more efficient manner.
The title of this essay refers to Erica Jong, who, in The Fear of Flying, claimed to be searching for the perfect love affair with an anonymous stranger, with no awkwardness: The Zipless F***. And no matter how much that book got on my nerves (Her husband took her back? Was he crazy? Why did she want him back? Did she learn anything at all? No?) and how Jong dissed the entire romance genre a few years ago, she was a bit ahead of her time as far as women seeking fulfillment, having sex, looking for themselves (in all the wrong places), and generally being individuals who live, love, make mistakes, and don't have to die horribly because they're sluuuuuuuuts (See: Mme Bovary. See also: The Awakening. See also: slut-shaming of every sort.)
One day...one magical day in the future...I will be such a talented author that I write the Editless Manuscript. The Zipless Draft.
Perfection. Right up front. And I won't even have to plot it out ahead of time or do a synopsis on spec. Because that is off the table.