I've finally managed to pick myself up and face the music called 'editing'. Which means I'm reading through my "book", my NaNoWriMo project from last November. After all those authors complaining about editing on social media, I was getting cold feet, but it's surprisingly okay. It's not annoying at all, I just make changes wherever I find they are necessary, as I walk through the same halls and talk to the same people I met (and created) last November. I would almost call it a fun thing to do.
The problem is keeping my eyes open after a night of four hours sleep with a ten minute break in between and only a bit of dozing before and after. There's only so much coffee anyone should drink in one day. And Senseo just isn't cut out for this situation - three gulps and it's gone.
Last post I mentioned that I was a little bit scared to finally open my document again and look at it with new eyes after three months. What if the rush of writing made it all seem so much better than it was? What if it was only interesting and entertaining as a challenge? Well, it isn't.
I'm immediately stepping back into the world I created and the people still look the same and behave the same way. Some details are more noticeable now, others won't be there until I decide I need to see them. Editing isn't scary. Or I should amend that: not now, not for me. I don't have beta readers criticising things I was actually quite proud or fond of, I don't have a deadline, I don't even have anyone else's expectations to meet. Quite a luxury, to be honest.
And even though the NaNo team advised all contestants to tell family, friends and relatives all about their project, so that said family, friends and relatives could encourage, prod, push, inquire and wonder about it - no one bothered to ask me about this story of mine after November. No one but my mother at some point in January, but that was because she mistakenly believed I had a deadline and NaNo was the sort of competition where you had to hand in a manuscript.
I quite like working this way in silence. If I turn back to translating next week, I won't be finished with the editing - not even getting beyond chapter ten, it looks like - but I can devote a morning or an evening to it whenever it suits me. Same for my translation, since it looks like I have a little more time on my hands. Which, after working for four solid months and hardly pausing at Christmas, is probably a good thing, too.
Anyway, this rambling little post was merely to say: yes, I was scared, I had cold feet and I thought that my scepticism and critical eye would tear the entire story to shreds in a heartbeat. THAT DIDN'T HAPPEN. I'm just going to go through it from beginning to end, polishing, shaving, adding this and deleting that, and see where that gets me. And then I'll probably leave it to rest on my harddrive for a little while again.
But that's looking quite far into the future, methinks. Let me just get back to chapter four now and see if I can make the mean girl a bit meaner and the nice boy a bit nicer.