How I edit my own work - Plus a story to read too - 1
It's not so easy to edit your own work as you may imagine. Your brain sees what you (it) wrote and it thinks 'I wrote that! Therefore, it has to be perfect!'
Not so, Brain, not so at all.
Missed words, words that look similar to what you actually meant and miss-spelled words can all slip past because the Brain knows what you wanted to write and therefore sees none of the mistakes.
I started writing Daughters of Le Fay for a writing competition. Trev (@s0u1) encouraged me to enter it to the national television competition and I had something to prove to myself. I wanted to know if I was a 'One-trick-pony' or not. I'd just published Deadlier Than The Male and was riding high on the wave of the success of that - everyone on my friends list on Facebook loved it.
I started writing this story and we printed it and sent it off to the competition.
The day before the competition deadline, we checked on the delivery of the manuscript and...
The Post Office had lost it!
DISASTER!
Trev wanted to print out another copy, package it up and personally drive to London to deliver it.
I said, "No. This has happened for a reason. Let's not worry about it."
He took some persuading, but finally agreed and I said I'd finish the book...
Well... that hasn't happened, but I can now re-vamp it and re-edit it using the experience gained from my writing.
So, if you're interested, I'll edit my book and you can see the 'before and after' versions.
I hope you'll see how much I've improved and if it helps to also show that we can all get better with practice, then this will be a success.
Here we go then.
Before editing
The little kitchen girl was carrying a large metal pot in her arms, it was too heavy for her and she was struggling with the bulk of it. As she walked past the fireplace, as always wary in case she stumbled into the coals, she saw something in the steam of the huge cooking pot that was suspended above the fire, constantly on the boil. Fascinated, she put down the metal pot and leaned as close to the fire as she could without singeing either her tatty and ragged hem or her shins and feet.
Through the steam billowing about her face, she could see something and she concentrated. There was another girl in another place and Katherine thought that she looked familiar. Then, though she was level with Katherine, the girl looked down, as though into a pool, her hair falling forward and she stared right into Katherine’s eyes, Katherine saw her own mirror image looking back. She was holding her breath as their eyes met over the unfathomable distance. A shock of recognition that she had not expected jolted her out of her reverie and the image melted as her breath, expelled in a gasp, dissipated the vapours from the boiling water. She felt a moment of vertigo and swayed forward towards the heat of the bubbling pot. Her eyes closed without her realising as a wave of nausea took hold.
She was disoriented and stood upright but overbalanced and swayed on her feet, stepping backwards to compensate. She stepped on something softer than the floor.
“Watch what you are about, clumsy dolt!” The screech came from the cook, she was creeping up on Katherine to catch her day-dreaming but Katherine stepped onto her gout-swollen foot. The cook slapped Katherine but because they were so close together, it was more of a push and Katherine, already off-balance, fell forward. Her hands were outstretched in an instinct to save herself as she fell, but the fire was waiting.
There was a sharp and terrible sizzle, she smelled burning hair, skin and flesh and then heard a piercing scream that tore at her very soul. It was a second or so before she realised the screaming was her own.
She was still screaming as someone pulled her backwards, out of the flames. She felt cold water hit her as someone else threw the mop-bucket water onto her burning clothes and her arm was held tight and then forced down and she resisted but she felt soothing cool water as the pain in her hand was quenched.
“Stop that noise!” The cook yelled again, but it would not quieten the girl this time, she was too badly injured.
Then Katherine passed out.
The little scullery girl struggled across the kitchen, carrying a large metal pot in her arms. The pot was too heavy and cumbersome for her and she couldn’t hold it properly because of the bulk of it.
She stumbled past the fireplace, as always wary in case she stumbled into the coals, she saw something in the steam of the huge cooking pot suspended above the fire, constantly on the boil and frequently replenished for hot water necessary for the kitchen.
Fascinated, she put down the metal pot and leaned as close to the fire as she could without singeing either her tatty and ragged hem, or her shins and feet.
Through the steam billowing about her face, she could see something and she concentrated.
Another girl in another place wove in and out of focus through the steam and Katherine thought she looked familiar.
Then, though she was level with Katherine, in the vision, the girl looked down, as though into a pool. Her hair fell forward and she brushed it back so she could stare right into Katherine’s eyes. Katherine saw her own image looking back.
She held her breath as their eyes met over the unfathomable distance. A shock of recognition that she had not expected jolted her out of her reverie and the image melted as her breath, expelled in a gasp, dissipated the vapours from the boiling water.
She felt a moment of vertigo and swayed forward towards the heat of the bubbling pot. Her eyes closed without her realising, as a wave of nausea took hold.
Disoriented, she stood upright but overbalanced, and swayed on her feet, stepping backwards to compensate.
She stepped on something softer than the floor.
“Watch what you are about, clumsy dolt!” The screech came from the cook, she had crept-up on Katherine to catch her day-dreaming, but Katherine stepped onto her gout-swollen foot.
The cook slapped Katherine, but because they were so close together, it was more of a push and Katherine, already off-balance, fell forward.
Her hands reached forward, outstretched in an instinct to save herself as she fell, but the fire was waiting.
A sharp and terrible sizzle, the harsh stink of burning hair, skin and flesh and then a piercing scream that tore at her very soul.
It was a second or so before she realised the screaming was her own.
She was still screaming as someone pulled her backwards, out of the flames. She felt cold water hit her as someone else threw the mop-bucket water onto her burning clothes and her arm was clasped tight and forced down. She resisted, but felt soothing cool water as the pain in her hand was quenched.
“Stop that noise!” The cook yelled again, but it would not quieten the girl this time, she was too badly injured.
Then Katherine passed out.
Yeah... my html skills are in need of a dusting-down but I'll get the hang of it.
Images from Google Free To Use filter
This helps, @michelle.gent. I've been struggling with first draft perfection anxiety syndrome. Unless you are able to let go of that first draft and fully give yourself permission to suck-but-move-forward, you're never going to finish anything. So layering one's story becomes crucial. I've read that Scott Adams, a best-selling non-fiction writer and cartoonist goes four about four layers per article written. The fourth layer he calls the "persuasion layer" where he goes in and replaces less persuasive words with more persuasive ones. For instance, if he has two perfectly replaceable synonyms, he goes for the one that sounds funnier to say.
I know all about the perfection thing. It's crippling.
Steemit is helping me to lose that... I'm writing so much on here that I don't have time to nit-pick my serialised story. I'll edit it when I finally send it to the publisher to take a look at :)
Its always so difficult considering the fact that you want everything meaningful to be there. I applaud you 💪💪💪💪
So true.
It happens to me as writer
Thank you.
It's a part of writing that I'm only just getting to grips with - leaving it until the story is finished before I go back and edit.
This is so great @michelle.gent
Kindly help upvote my post see here:
https://steemit.com/writing/@mickyscofield/poem-for-october-calm-october
Good work @michelle.gent !
Thank you.
Much needed post. The work I am posting on Steemit is quite raw. But a book I wrote many years ago was edited that many times I lost count. I was never satisfied. Knowing when to stop can be a problem too. Thank you for these tips.
That's true. You have to know when it's time.
Interesting to see how your writing style evolves - seeing it side by side really shows how descriptive elements can so easily be left out, and the addition really enhances the writing
It helps that I wrote the piece a LONG time ago... I think I've improved a little since...
Yeah, I struggle editing my own story. Like you've mentioned it's difficult picking up on your own mistakes. After a chapter I'll let it rest for a while and then go back to check. This helps however it's not foolproof. I don't always want to bug my wife (especially mid Candy Crush:D) and have made some mistakes however now she'll take the time to check properly. This editing is more like completely reconstructing a chapter which proved well worth the effort :):) Gg!!
That's what happened here. I left it for a while (a decade... or so)
One other thing that can help... Record yourself reading the story out loud. If it falters when you read it, you'll find it easily.
Ahhh, that's a good one. Thank you :):)
Very good post @michelle.gent. . Thankyou for sharing. . Success for you
Thank you.
It is so true, sometimes I do not want to edit mine, I asked my someone to read it for me and if I found something "wierd", I record it, then after that I ussualy write a new one... hahaha..
Regards...
Oh boy, I wouldn't want to keep writing mine out over and over. I like editing the stories and putting them out there :)
hello, @michelle.gent
