Let’s call it ‘Draft 2.2’. I am halfway through re-reading the book, using an oft-recommended method — I am reading my book aloud, to myself. In practice, this is as dorky as it sounds. In public, I cover both sides of my face with my hands and mutter so only I can hear. Weird.
Here’s an example of the mistakes I catch this way:
“In a flash, all of the color in her skin drained away, then returned as fast as it had left.”
Creepy. Also, I deleted ‘all of’. It’s a common offense of mine, along with ‘just’, as in:
“In practice, this is just as dorky as it sounds.”
So meta.
The pleasant surprise in taking this approach to editing is that…drumroll, please…
I like my book.
I hope that doesn’t come off too prideful. It’s a happy revelation for me. Maybe it’s a surprise because I’ve devoted myself artistically to improv for so long. You don’t get to enjoy your own work in improv. Audience feedback is great (especially the immediate, laughing variety). This is the first time in a while I’ve had the luxury of sculpting my art, and can live with it as an artifact.
It’s been said that a writer’s/artist’s primary goal should be to create something they would want to read. I think I’ve succeeded.
This also means I am nearly ready for others to give hard, insightful feedback…Beta readers, here we go!