And we’re off to the races.
I got my revision letter for Without the Walls from my editor today.
It’s just over three pages. It’s got the little Harcourt logo in the corner. I’ve read it five times.
What strikes me are all the tiny, unintentional things that need my attention the most. Things that I never imagined would skew the story a certain way had a profound effect that I never intended. I’m very glad for a chance to spin these details back the way I want them.
Some of my colleagues, both my fellow EMUs and my fellow Apocalypsies, have admitted to a certain amount of angst over their revision letters, but I honestly don’t feel the need to mainline chocolate or pour myself three fingers of Bushmills while weeping inconsolably.
Rather, I get this strange sense of relief, that someone perceptive and knowledgeable brought these things to my attention so Without the Walls can go into the world more like the book I want it to be, rather than the book I thought it was.
I get the impression that this sort of calm in the face of a revision letter isn’t normal.
So many of the things that need tweaking are consequences of my inner historian’s forgetfulness of modern perceptions. Usually I can shut my inner historian up long enough to find and massage these things into obscurity, but sometimes they’re so quiet that I miss them. I’m a little surprised and more than a little chagrined how many of these there were.
But now? To work!