Put on your author hat and help me out here, would you?
Your agent has submitted your story. Rejection letters accumulate even as contest judges continue to give that baby accolades and at least one win. (You want to hug those judges–or at least send them some Godiva truffles.) You rewrite for the zillionth time. One more tweak, or two or ten. Surely, another rewrite will do the trick.
And then–glory, hallelujah–the phone rings. It’s your agent. Your knees begin to buckle. Three editors have shown interest, but here’s one offering a contract. You sign on the dotted line and wander the house, beaming, because finally, finally . . . FINALLY . . . you know you’ll have a book in hand. Your book. In your hand. (And, you pray, in many others’ hands, though that bit seems even harder to imagine than finally achieving a contract.)
The editor at the publishing house has yet to send you his or her suggestions. Meanwhile, you’ve still got a day job editing for others and three manuscripts in various stages of readiness. You plod along, tweaking, editing, rewriting, editing, reading, reading, and then you wake up one morning, quaking because once that final edit goes out on that contracted book, you won’t be able to tweak it again. Your name will be irrevocably tied to that bound copy or that downloaded ebook.
I’m posing this question to published authors.
How do you finally decide that good enough is actually good enough? How do you finally say, “Okay, I will lay down that piece and move on to the next?” Is it when your contract deadline nears? When you’ve got to have the work back in the publisher’s hands–or someone’s going to be in trouble?
Because, I don’t know about you, but I’m always rewriting. I love to rewrite. And each of my stories has improved with age. So, where do I quit?
If you’ve held your book in your hands, are you satisfied? Do you wish you could have a do-over on any part of it? Or do you worry that one of your story layers will topple? Do you ever worry that one of those stones–a relationship or a conflict or a theme, or even merely a moment or scene–might have worked better if nestled with just a bit more care?
I’d really like to know.
I was lucky enough to get a chance for a do-over! As you know, my self-published book was picked up by Hyperion. I’ve been working with my new editor over the last 3 months on improvements.
It was hard to edit the book because the self-published version received such great reviews. If it ain’t broke …
But there were parts that still bothered me in the original version. I’d run out of time to fix them before self-publishing. There were gaps in the character development (my character!) and there was some occasional confusion about place/date. I built more tension throughout the story and really honing the climaxes. 10,000 words were added, some were taken away. Overall, I’m confident that it’s stronger.
I sent the final ms off yesterday.
Torre,
Not only did your first version get great reviews, but I’m still coming across folk who use you and Swept as an example of what can happen when a self-publisher takes the time for a careful edit and crafts a gorgeous cover. How lovely that you could take what was already good and make it into something even better. You know I’ll be there, buying the next one (and this time, not in digital format), as soon as you let me know it’s out. (She rubs her hands together, thinking more words, more words, yippee!)
Aww. Thank you so much for all of your support. x
My pleasure.
The answer as to when someone is finally ready to put that pen down is…………….. when you’re not a perfectionist or when the publisher says they’re ready to go.
Most writers even after the pen is put away will think of something they wish they’d written differently or of something they’d added. There will be comments from readers and reviews that’ll make you wonder if they actually read the same book that you’ve written, that will make you wish you’d perhaps just tweaked a little.
Basically this is your baby, the child you’re going to want to nurture who must have the best care. But after a while it has to learn to stand on it’s own two feet and you’ll gradually learn to stand a little further back and recognise you did what you could.
The very best of luck with the book Normandie. May it be a winner for you.
Blessings to you, David. I’ve been writing and rewriting for so many years, finishing one, picking up another, putting that down and reworking the first, then the second, then the third and fourth. It’s very difficult to let the first one (not the first–or even the second–written) out of the paddock. The non-fiction work I did in the past didn’t have the same hold on me, and there came a point when sculpting when I could just lay down my tools and say, “Fini.” Also the poems–they come in one sitting, and I can move on to something else. Perhaps this clutch on my stories has something to do with being a perfectionist’s daughter. Oh, and reading the classics.
Well, considering that I rewrote The Guardian after it had been OOP for 16 years…um….
With me it’s primarily instinct. When I find myself going through the book and not making many changes at all, I begin to feel content, and then I let it go. I rest for a while, and eventually another story comes to me.
When the book is out, I’m no longer in ‘editing mode’ and I’m no longer scrutinizing the words, just enjoying them. Until sixteen years pass, I guess. 😉
Much of my rewriting comes post-Jane, because you always give me things to think about. I do the fix, and then let it sit, and then do more, and then, of course, more. I hope I’ll drop out of edit mode when I hold the book in my hands, but I doubt it.