An hour ago I typed “The End” on the first draft of my first-ever urban fantasy novel. Okay, I didn’t literally do that (does anyone do that anymore?), but I did call it done.
This draft is also the longest thing I’ve ever written.
Whoo-hoo! Time to celebrate!
ORDER A LARGE PIZZA WITH PEPPERONI AND BACON! MIX UP A GIMLET! BINGE WATCH GOOD OMENS! LIGHT THE BEACONS OF GONDOR! PRANK CALL THE TARDIS (“Is your multi-phase time displacement converter running…?”)! SHOOT OFF SOME FIREWORKS ON ENDOR! ( < - - - ed. note: not necessarily in that order)
Well, ONE of those things is going to happen tonight.
Tomorrow’s a whole new ballgame, though. In the morning, the typing monkey hat comes off and the editing hat goes on.
[side note: I actually look awful in hats. The only time you will catch me willingly wearing anything on my head is my TD bucket]
Writing almost 100K words isn’t easy, mind you, but compared to editing, it’s the difference between licking the spoon after making a batch of brownies and licking the beaters when the electric mixer is still running.
Trust me when I say this first draft is not ready for the light of day. I already have tons of work to do, and that’s just the stuff in front of me. As soon as I dive in, I’ll find more necessary edits.
But as someone once insightfully said, “writing is rewriting.”
Or to bastardize the bard, “Cry ‘Edit!’ and let slip the rules of plot structure, grammar, and copy!”