Sunday, June 10, 2007

Stepping Away from the Writer's Group

Okay, still gonna go to the group each week, but I probably won't be bringing more than a page or two of one-shots or poetry, if I bring anything at all. As of the Wednesday before last, I have brought the last chapter of my urban fantasy to the group and received their critiques and feedback. Last night I finished taking all of their handwritten notes and compiled those onto my hard copies of the chapters.

I now have two copies of the manuscript, one with my own edits, the other this compilation of edits. My next step (which I began a bit earlier today) is to take those handwritten notes and transcribe them onto the computer file copy. I'm doing this with my personal copy first, because I think its first few chapters are older (I had printed it out but then made changes to the computer file version before even editing the printed hard copy), then I'll do the writing group edits.

It's time-consuming and I am tempted to do what my friend is doing, rewriting the whole thing while incorporating the edits in order to get a cleaner flow of narrative between the old and the new. But right now, considering the amount of editing needed, I'll think I'll just input them and reread it afterwards, doing my best to read it for flow and pace (better than I did in the first editing round trying to see how it flowed and whether the pace worked).

Still reading the Neil Gaiman anthology, Smoke and Mirrors, which I am greatly enjoying, and trying to go to sleep Friday night, I ended up forming this neat description of a bar in the midst of a dump (not quite literaly speaking, quite), which I actually remembered Saturday. I wrote it down while driving from Mililani to Kapolei (I wasn't driving, I was in the passenger seat, shotgun). I was pleasantly surprised that I remembered as much as I did in terms of word to word recollection. I don't know if it would be better served in poem form, or just adjust it for prose, though I do know I couldn't use it as the beginning of a story. But I do like it and I like the inkling of a story forming out of it. We'll see where that leads.

The rest of this Saturday was less than pleasant, but it has been good for my writing, if not my sleep habits. (Two nights of taking forever to fall asleep, only to wake in the middle of the night, but dozing in come morning--not quite sleeping in, as I was partially conscious).

My typing on this laptop is still atrocious--you are all lucky I find as many of my typos as I do. I blame it on a combination of never getting the hang of the home keys, long fingernails, and being unaccustomed to the flatter keys of a laptop/notebook. (Actually, I rather need to cut my nails, I am far too concerned about them breaking under the skin--screwing chipping them, that's pansy talk--while I'm packing and moving large, heavy boxes at work.) Right-o, off to edit some more.

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