Editing: Then and Now

Years ago (with the OJ pursuit blaring from the TV in the background) I typed THE END to my first romance novel, Logan’s Daughter. Off went the query letter, and to my somewhat smug delight, I was asked to submit the full along with a synopsis.

Synopsis? Hm. How do you write a synopsis? I didn’t have a clue, but I gave it my best shot and sent the package off.

Wait a minute, you say. What about editing?

Editing?

That’s right, I didn’t do any. Nada. Zilch. Zippo. Just mailed the sucker out, naked off the printer. Gee, are you surprised I received my first rejection letter in response?

To me, that rejection letter meant I didn’t have what it took to be a writer. I quit writing right then and there. Goes to show you how mature I was, huh?

Flash forward. Back to the drawing board. I completed my second romance novel, Fit For Love, last year. This time I submitted each chapter to a critique group as I wrote it. When I typed THE END, I reviewed all the feedback and made changes where I thought they were warranted. Ah, so simple, I thought, while congratulating myself.

Wrong again, probably, since I haven’t sold it. (Not to say there hasn’t been some interest, but so far…no go.)

Which brings us to Stealing Amy. I typed THE END over a month ago and I’m still editing/revising. Now I know why I avoided the process before—bikini waxes are a hoot, comparatively speaking.

I started by doing a complete read through of the hard copy while noting a range of gems like: do a search on “jerk” (my characters can’t seem to merely swivel or turn their heads)…explain bartender’s earlier suspicion at end…switch older brother to younger brother on page 220…change restaurant name to El Rayo Verde and explain significance to give ending a rockem’, sockem’, pow…and blah, blah, blah. All in all, over 150 items. Yikes, what would happen if I performed a similar exorcism on Fit For Love? I haven’t even begun to go back and ratchet up the vocabulary yet. At this rate, I’ll be lucky to have the book ready to pitch at National.

And yet…and yet…each seemingly insurmountable barrier, gives me a glimmer of hope. Why? Because it means (please, please) the story is more complex—the characters harder to handle and thus deeper, richer.

At least, that’s the plan.