Editing is a strange pastime

I had another dark night of the (nonexistent) soul yesterday. In my "reading" of Xmas Carol, I made so many changes to one scene that I thought I was losing it. Surely I was screwing the book up at this point. This perception made me run from the computer in horror (and not the good kind). I turned on the Giants game, hoping to forget my work day.

But my editing left me so depressed that I couldn't follow the game. So I turned off the TV and returned to the scene. I read it again and it was wonderful. All that editing, which felt so confused when I was doing it, was spot on. The scene was perfect.

I guess the moral here is to have faith in my own literary judgment. If I feel further editing is necessary, I should do it. There is a light at the end of the tunnel. I know because I saw it yesterday.

The continuing saga of Xmas Carol

Okay, I finished yet another edit of the book. This time through, I changed two scenes drastically. So now I have to read the book again. I know: it's like a sick movie. How many times have I edited this book?! (Pulls hair from head; screams.)

But it had to be done. If I had an editor I'd probably be complaining that he wants me to change this scene or that, wants rewrites, wants cuts, etc. Well, fortunately or unfortunately, I have my own internal editor and I have to do what it dictates. I have done this unfailingly.

As a result, I have reached the promised land (I think). The book may be done. I'll know when I read it. For now, I plan to take Sunday off and enjoy a day of football and horror movies. It makes sense to freshen my outlook before reading the book for the umpteenth time. Soon, my little pretties. Hang on.