My Own Devices
Sometimes when I reach a milestone on my self-publishing journey, I celebrate the moment with abandon. At other times, however, I find myself grumbling that it actually means very little when viewed through the lens of the woes of the outside world.
It comes as no surprise that those challenging moments can lead to an overall questioning of my core drive to write fiction. But fortunately, I can usually rely on one of my steadfast mantras to right the ship:
• "That's just who I am"
• "If a story comes to me, it needs telling"
• "I've been writing stories my whole life, if not on paper or a screen, then in my head"
• "I'm better off writing than ____ (fill in the blank)."
As you might suspect, I recently experienced one of those harsher times when I reached the final stage of copyediting my upcoming serialized companion novel. The moment I replaced my 1137th—& final—first stage rewrite marker with the next stage marker, my writer's soul rejoiced.
But almost at once, that pesky contender started raising hell.
Besides my mantras, one of my go-to distraction strategies for such moments is to fantasize what it would be like to have a professional editor point out grammatical missteps or content enhancements along the way. However, that approach doesn't last long since I'm so accustomed to being an independent author that I know full well I'd chafe at mundane things like being told that even though lens (used above) can be spelled either lens or lense, the first spelling holds sway. No problem, says the adult in me; Oh yeah? says my inner child & no doubt opts for the latter in the name of oppositional-defiance.
That said, I'd still truly appreciate the same imaginary editor marking up misguided usages & downright fumbles long before I notice them. For example, my current favorite is finding "a blown blur zipped out from under the wreckage" instead of the intended "a brown blur zipped out from under the wreckage."
Good old spellcheckers have their limits, as do I. In my world, their evil cousins grammar checkers are an unwelcome lot, so I'm happy to be left to my own devices in that regard.
Never a dull moment on this journey, let me tell you.
Time to get back to keeping my nose to the copyediting grindstone before that pesky contender tries pulling another stunt.
Drew
Drew Faraday
Pearl Fields and the Oregon Meltdown
It comes as no surprise that those challenging moments can lead to an overall questioning of my core drive to write fiction. But fortunately, I can usually rely on one of my steadfast mantras to right the ship:
• "That's just who I am"
• "If a story comes to me, it needs telling"
• "I've been writing stories my whole life, if not on paper or a screen, then in my head"
• "I'm better off writing than ____ (fill in the blank)."
As you might suspect, I recently experienced one of those harsher times when I reached the final stage of copyediting my upcoming serialized companion novel. The moment I replaced my 1137th—& final—first stage rewrite marker with the next stage marker, my writer's soul rejoiced.
But almost at once, that pesky contender started raising hell.
Besides my mantras, one of my go-to distraction strategies for such moments is to fantasize what it would be like to have a professional editor point out grammatical missteps or content enhancements along the way. However, that approach doesn't last long since I'm so accustomed to being an independent author that I know full well I'd chafe at mundane things like being told that even though lens (used above) can be spelled either lens or lense, the first spelling holds sway. No problem, says the adult in me; Oh yeah? says my inner child & no doubt opts for the latter in the name of oppositional-defiance.
That said, I'd still truly appreciate the same imaginary editor marking up misguided usages & downright fumbles long before I notice them. For example, my current favorite is finding "a blown blur zipped out from under the wreckage" instead of the intended "a brown blur zipped out from under the wreckage."
Good old spellcheckers have their limits, as do I. In my world, their evil cousins grammar checkers are an unwelcome lot, so I'm happy to be left to my own devices in that regard.
Never a dull moment on this journey, let me tell you.
Time to get back to keeping my nose to the copyediting grindstone before that pesky contender tries pulling another stunt.
Drew
Drew Faraday
Pearl Fields and the Oregon Meltdown
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