1.) Red ink
Editorial notes for Book 3 have finally arrived and I get to close my office door every morning, sit at my desk and escape the craziness for a little while. This set of revision is called the ‘line-edit’, which happens after the ‘structural edit’ (where large overall issues and big, glaring holes are addressed) and before the copy-edit (where grammar, style and smaller discrepancies are picked up, like why is she opening the door on page 94, when it was already open at the bottom of p. 93).
2.) Lots of questions
My editor has gone through the text line by line, marking where character developments need to be honed, pace and suspense heightened, muddledness clarified. For example, one thing she flagged is that a big part of my story hinges on the fame of my protagonist. Violet is a London society patroness, plucky and passionate and always speaking out for her causes. She is so well-known that the antagonist is prepared to go to considerable lengths to attack her good name. I have set up her fame a little bit, but you don’t yet feel the true extent of her exposure and the vulnerability that comes with it, not enough to understand what devastating havoc the antagonist can wreak. So I’m combing through the text line by line, weaving in tiny, almost invisible bits of fame that will eventually drive the plot towards the clash with the antagonist: an audience at a public speech, a photographer lurking in the bushes, my supposedly fearless society dame hiding in her house, listening to the hammering of fists on her door…
3.) Gallons of tea
Now, it’s a bit of a misconception that authors dread their precious manuscript coming back covered in red ink and exclamation marks. And sure, there’s a heart-stopping moment when you first open up that email. And it’s not all that pleasant to see the one beautiful paragraph you slaved over cut down to a single sentence. But it’s nothing compared to the relief that someone you know and trust has waded through your words and hammered in sign-posts along the way, all with one single purpose — to make your story shine. My editor is lovely and incredibly polite, she has an innate sense of what makes a story tick and the advantage of an outside perspective. Sitting at my desk and reading her comments in the margins is a bit like having a long conversation with her — one of the few people who knows my book as well as I do — and that, in these trepidatious and often lonely times, is a wonderful feeling.