On the golf course, you drive for show and putt for dough. With writing, the first draft is the drive and editing is your short game.
The HooseCows is so close to being ready for publishers, but sending it off right now would be like sending James Bond out in sweats and a sleeveless tank top. Some things must simply be done right.
Mostly, I find myself backhanding unnecessary commas and clarifying constipated sentences. Each trim dresses up the final product. The end goal is for an editor to read The HooseCows and forget about everything except the story of Hank James and his love for the game.
Which makes me sound extremely noble. It’s truly how I think, but it ain’t how I feel. I FEEL like throwing my computer out a window, setting all drafts on fire, screaming along with songs from Ice Cube’s The Predator album, and dressing up like I was in The Misfits.
Going to have to hold off on that, though. I’m finally over halfway done with the editing the book, so I guess I oughta stay focused and finish what I started.
Update over. Very sleepy. The BEAST DEMANDS EDITING!