Speededit – August 2024

Did I just make up a word? Here I sit, in My Big Comfy Chair on a Sunday morning. Last night was an epic summer storm, and I have a headache and a sense of accomplishment. I finished a speed read/edit of my sequel to Firewatcher (sci-fi). It went better than I expected and is far from perfect. This is part of my typical writing process, reading a draft as fast as possible so my brain isn’t distracted by minutiae but notices the bumps, plot holes, dull stretches, washboarded words, oh-how-did-I-not-see-thats. Red pen on paper. Fix it later.

It is too easy for me to edit my books more slowly, and that’s part of the process, too. That’s how sentences are fixed. But, for me, a speededit is an edit of the story. Take big bites and see if there are any bones in there. Does it need more spice? Too salty, or not salty enough? Is it bland but correct, or is it sweet but has no place in the mix? Dump it all back into my brain through my eyes, marking it up in red ink on white paper the way road crews spot potholes and buried branches with spray paint, marking what gets fixed later.

I read it in public, not out loud, but I spend as much time as possible reading it with voices in the background. Coffeeshops are best, of course. Libraries add the squeal of kids and cantankerous complaints from locals. Sitting at a sidewalk spot can work, but my area gets splattered regularly with seagull droppings. Ick. At least wear a hat. I read and edit it there so I hear real voices, not the stilted or overly-structured sentences that looked fine as I typed in seclusion at home.

Without intending to, it also becomes a marketing opportunity as I answer the rare question of, “What are you doing there?” A mark of the neighborhood can be a waiter who is more specific because they recognized the Draft watermark. They ask, “What are you working on?” Literate neighborhoods can be comforting and supportive. One place I walked into spawned a chance to form an ultra-local writers’ group as one person asked me about my project, revealed they were writing too, and then found two others who were working on theirs. They were all keeping their writings private and didn’t know each was working on that work outside of work. Glad to be of service, or at least a catalyst.

The process is actually simple. I find a print place, and get them to print the file double-sided, coil-bound, with plastic covers. Find a fine enough place. Red pen preferred. Highlighter handy, just in case. A notepad, just in case. And start reading. Do it fast. Mark it up, but fix it later. Notes in the margins, or between the lines, or on that extra notepad. For me, local parking restrictions made it likely that I’d have to take breaks to move the car every couple of hours. (I got lucky this time and found a free, legit, all-day spot. Score!) Even then, though, I wrote at a coffeeshop, then a lunch spot, then outside (under shelter). The next day wasn’t as lucky with the parking so a different lunch spot, then the library (which are no longer quiet), dinner, then a parking spot beside a local airport’s runway where I could watch a storm come in. That was a climax during which I edited the climax. Finally, I finished at home because editing at a bar at 11PM is taking the idea too far.

Two days for about 115,000 words. Edits on almost every page, of course, and that treat of pages that were good enough, for now.

Next comes the task of clearing enough of the desk so the marked-up pages can sit beside the keyboard as I follow my scribbled directions. Those two days will lead to weeks of work.

Those two days were also nicely revealing. The story is fine. It isn’t perfect, but it is doing well enough for most readers. Editors may never be pleased. Sorry about that, folks. At 65 years old, this book is feeling crowded by several other projects I want to complete, and there’s probably a line behind them shoving them forward, too.

This will be draft 6. After this one will be more a formulaic draft: punctuation, grammar, formatting, etc. Each takes time, and the time I have is shrinking day-by-day while the holiday deadline doesn’t move – though my personal definition of it will get nudged a bit.

Now that the story is basically finished it is time to think about appropriate titles, cover art, marketing text, and eventual talks and such. The story may be done, but the book isn’t; and when the book is done, it will be followed by the bookselling stretch. 

There’s a lot to do, and it is getting done. First, a day off as the medications tackle this headache. Oy! It is almost as if writing was work. Imagine that.