As I suspected, editing is a brand new challenge. Maybe even harder than writing the first draft was. I knew it would be. My intention when writing the first draft was only to put the story to paper, make it real. Not to make it perfect. Add the fact English is not my first language, and a lot of grammar things are not intuitive for me, it makes editing harder.
I assume that’s part of why it’s going so slow. I’ve revised around 2 chapters by now. There are days when I feel pressure, from myself I’m the only one invested in the fate of this book, to work harder, dedicate more things, so I can have something closer to the final products. Other days I relax. It will take the time it needs to take.
As a way of procrastination, but still feeling useful, I’ve used the time I should have been editing to work on other book-related stuff. I re-designed the website. took a free book marketing course, bought a basic English grammar book I’ve been reading. It’s all part of the process.
When I have managed to focus on editing, I’ve actually enjoyed it a lot. Well, I enjoyed the fact I could tell the prose got better after I worked on it. I could see an evident improvement, it made it worth it. The process on itself had a degree of suffering.
Here is an example with my opening paragraph. You will see the original first draft writing, followed by the edited (as of today) version. It probably will change even more, as I plan to do at least two full revisions on my own and then find an editor to help me.
1st Draft
The ball stopped in the air, suspended for a second against the blue sky as if time and space couldn’t affect it, before starting to spin again letting gravity do its work. The dry sound of the strings hitting the ball was music to Dani’s ears. The racket in her hand felt like an anchor back to reality, keeping her body grounded while her brain flew away to another realm; a world where the only thing that mattered was the quick movement of her feet over the hot concrete and the strength of her arm when the racket made contact with the ball.
After Editing
The yellow fuzzy ball hovered in the air, suspended against the blue sky as if time couldn’t affect it. Brown eyes followed its path without missing a beat. Moving to attack it with practiced ease. The dry sound of the strings hitting the ball was music to Dani’s ears. The racket in her hand felt like an anchor back to reality. It kept her body grounded while her brain flew away to another realm. A world where the only thing that mattered was the quick movement of her feet over the hot concrete. The precision of her shots.