Editing is an amazing process. Honestly it is. This is how it goes. I think I've covered it, dotted everything that needs dotted, crossed what needs crossed and punctuated anything left standing. I've cut out or changed the word that by some wizardry has turned up three times in the same paragraph or even the same line. I've sorted out direct and indirect thoughts and done the necessary to show which is which. I've deleted some things which just over-egg the pudding and yup, I've finished. At last.
Well. No. Actually. At least not yet. This is how it also goes.
In Anthem for Jackson Dawes I elevate Megan from the fifth to the twelfth floor in chapter two, but there she is, little minx, getting herself back onto the fifth floor thirty pages later, from which she can't possibly see what I say she's seen. No wonder she gets herself into bother. And take Jackson. While he has huge eyes, which is fine and dandy, why does everyone else in the story want huge eyes too? They don't. They want some other eyes. But I give them all huge eyes. What am I thinking? I'll tell you what. I'm not thinking. It's me writing. It's me just full of a story I want to get down on the page, never mind that some things don't quite fit, or there are too many words trying to say something that can be said in one. Never mind that I've made a reference to something obscure and possibly not quite right. Never mind because it can be fixed. The next time I read and redraft, and the next. That's where my real writing, and thinking, begins. And if I've missed anything then I'm sorry. There have been many nexts with this book but maybe some little tiddler will still slip the net. I hope that doesn't stop you enjoying it. Look out for Megan and Jackson. January.