Getting published and editing and whatnot may have slowed me down, but there's no way I'm abandoning Please Don't Tell My Parents I'm A Supervillain. I'm in a hurry today, so here's quick links to the latest chapters. I also gotta figure out when to stop posting, especially since publication is almost guaranteed.
Chapter 7, Wherein Claire Will Fix Everything
Chapter 8, Wherein Names Are Named
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
Thursday, May 10, 2012
The Editing Experience
I just (yesterday) finished the editing process for Sweet Dreams Are Made Of Teeth with my new publisher, Curiosity Quills. It finished off with a long Google Chat session with my editor for that book, and I thought it would be neat to discuss how it all went!
First, there are two levels of editing at CQ. They have an intake editor who decides what books are accepted, and she does the first round. These are 'story edits', things that need to be changed to make the book publishable. In my case, this went very smoothly. Wild Children I insisted on no story edits to, but I'm not sure they wanted any. Sweet Dreams got no story edits at all. Quite Contrary, a book I wrote knowing it would be hard for any market to swallow, got only three. She asked for the swearing to be reduced (not eliminated). I didn't mind that. She asked for the fairy tale at the end to be updated... enough that I had to rewrite it from scratch. I knew I'd have to do that already. It just wasn't as good as the rest of the book, and was too important to leave feeling out of place. She asked for Mary's age to be changed from nine to twelve. I didn't like that, but it's an easy change to make and I trusted her judgment that from the reader's perspective Mary can't pass as nine. Once I made the change, it reads very well to me, so I no longer mind at all. The rewritten chapter took about a week. The other edits... maybe three hours total.
The second level of editing is 'line editing', which is what I just finished. I swear, I have never worked with such a nice editor, professionally or unprofessionally. She was herself a very competent writer with a feel for sentence flow, so most of her offered corrections I could accept without change. She sent me a copy of the manuscript with things that needed changing marked yellow, and her suggested changes or comments in red. All I had to do was mail back a separate file listing any of her changes I didn't accept. Her comments on what was wrong were very simple, like (comma) or (split infinitive) or (tense not consistent). That took the sting out. Being edited is terrifying and painful by nature. A creative work you poured your soul into is being judged and found wanting, over and over. Still, I hadn't gotten too far before it felt less like that and more like discussing touch ups with a friendly co-writer.
Each book gets a different line editor. I am praying the other two are as nice to work with. YOU HEAR ME, CQ?!?! Especially since I expect the Quite Contrary line edits to drop in my lap any minute now.
At the very end, and I don't think this is standard, I had a Google Chat conversation with Sweet Dreams' editor. Some of it was discussing how we felt about the book. I suspect the book is so weird she was probing for marketing copy, but I don't know. A lot of it was just friendly chat. Some of it was making sure I would be available for advertising activities up to and including book signings and tours. I doubt those two will happen any time soon, but the mere suggestion blew me away. One thing I learned is that they publish most novels three months after receiving them, and a few novels like Sweet Dreams six months after. It's based entirely on how much time they think they should spend on prep work like advertising, getting reviews, scheduling events, and making sure the paper(!) versions are ready.
Oh, and she suggested they'd love bonus material for all three books they can include with special sales copies.
So, that's how my week has been! Before that conversation I was editing - and editing, and editing, semi-nonstop for three days.
First, there are two levels of editing at CQ. They have an intake editor who decides what books are accepted, and she does the first round. These are 'story edits', things that need to be changed to make the book publishable. In my case, this went very smoothly. Wild Children I insisted on no story edits to, but I'm not sure they wanted any. Sweet Dreams got no story edits at all. Quite Contrary, a book I wrote knowing it would be hard for any market to swallow, got only three. She asked for the swearing to be reduced (not eliminated). I didn't mind that. She asked for the fairy tale at the end to be updated... enough that I had to rewrite it from scratch. I knew I'd have to do that already. It just wasn't as good as the rest of the book, and was too important to leave feeling out of place. She asked for Mary's age to be changed from nine to twelve. I didn't like that, but it's an easy change to make and I trusted her judgment that from the reader's perspective Mary can't pass as nine. Once I made the change, it reads very well to me, so I no longer mind at all. The rewritten chapter took about a week. The other edits... maybe three hours total.
The second level of editing is 'line editing', which is what I just finished. I swear, I have never worked with such a nice editor, professionally or unprofessionally. She was herself a very competent writer with a feel for sentence flow, so most of her offered corrections I could accept without change. She sent me a copy of the manuscript with things that needed changing marked yellow, and her suggested changes or comments in red. All I had to do was mail back a separate file listing any of her changes I didn't accept. Her comments on what was wrong were very simple, like (comma) or (split infinitive) or (tense not consistent). That took the sting out. Being edited is terrifying and painful by nature. A creative work you poured your soul into is being judged and found wanting, over and over. Still, I hadn't gotten too far before it felt less like that and more like discussing touch ups with a friendly co-writer.
Each book gets a different line editor. I am praying the other two are as nice to work with. YOU HEAR ME, CQ?!?! Especially since I expect the Quite Contrary line edits to drop in my lap any minute now.
At the very end, and I don't think this is standard, I had a Google Chat conversation with Sweet Dreams' editor. Some of it was discussing how we felt about the book. I suspect the book is so weird she was probing for marketing copy, but I don't know. A lot of it was just friendly chat. Some of it was making sure I would be available for advertising activities up to and including book signings and tours. I doubt those two will happen any time soon, but the mere suggestion blew me away. One thing I learned is that they publish most novels three months after receiving them, and a few novels like Sweet Dreams six months after. It's based entirely on how much time they think they should spend on prep work like advertising, getting reviews, scheduling events, and making sure the paper(!) versions are ready.
Oh, and she suggested they'd love bonus material for all three books they can include with special sales copies.
So, that's how my week has been! Before that conversation I was editing - and editing, and editing, semi-nonstop for three days.
Saturday, April 28, 2012
A Pause To Reflect On Nature
I've finished the (admittedly draft) rewrite of the last chapter of Quite Contrary. I've been assigned a new, official editor, and I'm waiting for her to contact me. The one thing I'm absolutely sure she'll want to keep from the temporary editor's requests is a rewrite of the last chapter, so that's no waste of time. It just plain needed fixing. I'm considering revving up my inspiration to resume Please Don't Tell My Parents I'm A Supervillain, but I expect to be hip deep in editing before the week is up. So until then, I have a break. I don't give them to myself, so it's a pleasant feeling.
So this leaves me walking around in the neighborhood, enjoying the sunshine and fresh air and green growing things, when the robin equivalent of Kill Bill breaks out in front of me. There's multiples of these little buggers swooping and tweeting and going after each other. I wish I could have gotten a picture, but it lasted for about three seconds. Three seconds of hardcore avian violence that will scar my innocent mind forever. It was awesome.
In other avian news, I think ducks read my blog, and they're not happy about my descriptions of their demeanor. The fellow pictured below now lives on my front lawn. I look out the window, and there's this duck, watching me. Front lawns are not normal nesting sites for mallards that I'm aware, but he's sticking around.
So this leaves me walking around in the neighborhood, enjoying the sunshine and fresh air and green growing things, when the robin equivalent of Kill Bill breaks out in front of me. There's multiples of these little buggers swooping and tweeting and going after each other. I wish I could have gotten a picture, but it lasted for about three seconds. Three seconds of hardcore avian violence that will scar my innocent mind forever. It was awesome.
In other avian news, I think ducks read my blog, and they're not happy about my descriptions of their demeanor. The fellow pictured below now lives on my front lawn. I look out the window, and there's this duck, watching me. Front lawns are not normal nesting sites for mallards that I'm aware, but he's sticking around.
Friday, April 20, 2012
Let Us Celebrate!
Now that the contracts are signed and they're stuck with me, I would like to thank the good folks at Curiosity Quills for choosing to publish Sweet Dreams Are Made Of Teeth and Quite Contrary! I was totally stunned that they want Quite Contrary. Yes, it's more publishable than Princess Knives And Her Many Fantastic Adventures In Hell, but it's still some harsh little girl stuff. Apparently they like that sort of thing!
Boy, did they sign the right person.
The fuss and the mass of editing involved is slowing down The Inscrutable Machine (which I am definitely going to call Please Don't Tell My Parents I'm A Supervillain from now on) considerably. Right now I'm throwing around inspirations because an entire chapter of Quite Contrary has to be rewritten. In the long term, it means I'll have more to say, more reason to say it, and incentive to write like a fiend!
For those of you following along at home, 'a fiend' is definitely what I write like.
Boy, did they sign the right person.
The fuss and the mass of editing involved is slowing down The Inscrutable Machine (which I am definitely going to call Please Don't Tell My Parents I'm A Supervillain from now on) considerably. Right now I'm throwing around inspirations because an entire chapter of Quite Contrary has to be rewritten. In the long term, it means I'll have more to say, more reason to say it, and incentive to write like a fiend!
For those of you following along at home, 'a fiend' is definitely what I write like.
Sunday, March 18, 2012
Let The Evil Laughter Begin!
I wanted to make this its own chapter. It is a moment I've long awaited - the debut battle for the premier middle school supervillain team, The Inscrutable Machine!
Chapter Six
Chapter Six
Thursday, March 15, 2012
Less Scrutable By The Minute
And now, the dominos begin to fall. I hope the next chapter will be available soon, because it is the end of one part of the book and the beginning of the next. This is, after all, the story of a 13 year old middle school girl supervillain.
Chapter Five!
Chapter Five!
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
Anecdotes (Duck Edition)
So, we're going to skip over my unpleasant weekend to talk about the thing that happened just before it all descended into pain and fury. It was a bright and pretty Saturday morning, although quite gusty. I had a big bag of homemade bread that for miscellaneous reasons nobody was going to eat. I thought I'd go feed the ducks.
There's a duck pond nearby, a big cement thing behind an apartment complex. The walk is nice exercise if I go the long way, and I can bring my iSpud and pump myself full of music to inspire me for a day of writing. When I got there I couldn't see any ducks, only the two huge swans who swam right up to the edge of the pond and glared at me because I held food, might hold food, or might be made into food if I didn't pony up some bread. I tossed them a couple of crusts, and while they were busy I found that the duck flock was hidden around the corner of the building. They don't like getting near the swans, but the swans had food and would stay out of the way for awhile. The ducks saw a sucker and beelined for me. It looked like a great day of duck feeding.
Then duck nature took over. Ducks are, basically, feathered bags of spite. I threw out the first piece of bread, and every duck in the pond turned and attacked its neighbor. One single hen or duckess or whatever you call it had her eye on the prize, but in doing so she earned the ire of two mallards, who chased her relentlessly around the pond until I left. It might have been a mating thing, because 'consent' is a concept mallards leave to lesser avians, but none of the other mallards cared. These two just had an obsession. She'd fly to the other side of the pond, and they'd swim right through the flock, setting off more fights among anyone who'd settled down to feed, to attack her again.
Then the wind picked up, and thrashing waves - in a duck pond - swept the entire flock to the far side of the pond. The waves tipped the swans far enough over for me to learn that swans have huge, hideously mottled legs. I decided to go home, my faith in Nature restored.
There's a duck pond nearby, a big cement thing behind an apartment complex. The walk is nice exercise if I go the long way, and I can bring my iSpud and pump myself full of music to inspire me for a day of writing. When I got there I couldn't see any ducks, only the two huge swans who swam right up to the edge of the pond and glared at me because I held food, might hold food, or might be made into food if I didn't pony up some bread. I tossed them a couple of crusts, and while they were busy I found that the duck flock was hidden around the corner of the building. They don't like getting near the swans, but the swans had food and would stay out of the way for awhile. The ducks saw a sucker and beelined for me. It looked like a great day of duck feeding.
Then duck nature took over. Ducks are, basically, feathered bags of spite. I threw out the first piece of bread, and every duck in the pond turned and attacked its neighbor. One single hen or duckess or whatever you call it had her eye on the prize, but in doing so she earned the ire of two mallards, who chased her relentlessly around the pond until I left. It might have been a mating thing, because 'consent' is a concept mallards leave to lesser avians, but none of the other mallards cared. These two just had an obsession. She'd fly to the other side of the pond, and they'd swim right through the flock, setting off more fights among anyone who'd settled down to feed, to attack her again.
Then the wind picked up, and thrashing waves - in a duck pond - swept the entire flock to the far side of the pond. The waves tipped the swans far enough over for me to learn that swans have huge, hideously mottled legs. I decided to go home, my faith in Nature restored.
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