If you read my earlier post, entitled Why Edit, then you would know that I am referring to editing a novel of course.
Not actually tearing a baby apart.
Because that would be wrong.
So, moving swiftly along…. I have decided that the draft of my latest novel is worth editing. So I have spent the last week tearing it to pieces. I have read through it again, and drafted a rough description of each scene on an index card. Now my whole novel is sitting on 70 pieces of cardboard, waiting to be moved around and shuffled into the perfect place.
Poker anyone? I’ll see your talking dragon, and raise you two killer watermelons.
Once I have the scenes in the correct order, and have pulled out all the un-necessary cards, and added in new ones; then my masterpiece will be ready. It will still be badly written crap, but it will be badly written crap that hopefully makes logical sense.
And then the fun begins. Trying to fine-tune the actual writing.
Fear! Clutching at my breast! Oh, the horror! The Horror!
(But we’ll burn that bridge when we get to it.)