Is there anything in [a writer’s] life more painful than getting back those first editorial notes? I’ve been through the process enough to know that it is the psychic equivalent of getting a bikini wax from a very angry, poorly trained woman. Each time I’ve gotten those notes, it’s looked something like, “We love your manuscript! Now change everything,” and is accompanied by a two page list of everything I liked and the words, “This needs to go.”
Okay. That’s an exaggeration, but that’s how it feels. However it feels, it sure is smooth when it’s done. I’d go further with this metaphor, but my father reads this blog. I just got new notes the other day and I sat and looked at them for a long time wondering how I will ever be able to accomplish all the changes. I haven’t figured that out, yet, but I will in my allotted time. Not now, though. Right now, I have art to finish for one book, art to keep working on for another, and I have Irene Ferris’ upcoming novel to read–and send notes for the first round of edits. (Irene, I’ll try to be a very happy, poorly trained waxer!)
I would love to write more here tonight, but I do need to go get cracking on that artwork.
I need to take a class on drawing fingers. I wonder when I could fit that in?