Wages of Editry
Jun. 30th, 2011 12:59 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
leahbobetJune 29, 2011 Progress Notes:
"On Roadstead Farm"
Words today: 200.
Words total: 3200.
Reason for stopping: It's almost one in the morning, and it is a work night. A little is better than nothing.
Darling du Jour: The cistern hugged it like a newborn rabbit nestling against the light, a small tower built of scavenged tin and our Papa's own ingenuity.
Words Hallie Won't Admit to Knowing: Nothing today, actually.
Mean Things: A touch of the ol' PTSD. And maybe I'm being mean to fantasy tropes too, but I don't think we can disagree with that.
Research Roundup: A few more basic German words; the texture of hulled barley, for which I will probably just have to go to the health food store and pet barley.
Books in progress: Darren O'Donnell, Your Secrets Sleep With Me.
The glamour: Farmshare! An invitation to cool secret back-alley Shakespeare! And then a walk down to Kensington with Dr. My Roommate, because it was nice out and she needed stuff for stew. My feet have some glamorous blisters.
I think I am internalizing my editor.
Me: *typitytypity* That's a nice phrase.
Also Me: What's that mean, though? How's a soldier's sunburn different from a farmer's sunburn?
Me: Um.
Also Me: Most of these dudes were farmers anyway before they got scooped up to go to war.
Me: *attempts to find convoluted logic to justify pretty phrase*
Also Me: That's a lot of gymnastics, and it isn't working.
Me: It's pretty.
Also Me: I know.
Me: I could just leave it there, and screw the logic. I've gotten away with that before.
Also Me: Some editor will just call you on it. Actually, you know which one. She lives in New York.
Me: And then I could delay this decision until she does!
Also Me: You'd still have to fix it. Just fix it now.
Me: No, I could say "Too bad with your logic" and keep it.
Also Me: You'd also be wrong.
Me: Damn.
Moral of the day: It's the same damn sunburn. And this is what having a novel go through the professional editing process does to you.
"On Roadstead Farm"
Words today: 200.
Words total: 3200.
Reason for stopping: It's almost one in the morning, and it is a work night. A little is better than nothing.
Darling du Jour: The cistern hugged it like a newborn rabbit nestling against the light, a small tower built of scavenged tin and our Papa's own ingenuity.
Words Hallie Won't Admit to Knowing: Nothing today, actually.
Mean Things: A touch of the ol' PTSD. And maybe I'm being mean to fantasy tropes too, but I don't think we can disagree with that.
Research Roundup: A few more basic German words; the texture of hulled barley, for which I will probably just have to go to the health food store and pet barley.
Books in progress: Darren O'Donnell, Your Secrets Sleep With Me.
The glamour: Farmshare! An invitation to cool secret back-alley Shakespeare! And then a walk down to Kensington with Dr. My Roommate, because it was nice out and she needed stuff for stew. My feet have some glamorous blisters.
I think I am internalizing my editor.
Me: *typitytypity* That's a nice phrase.
Also Me: What's that mean, though? How's a soldier's sunburn different from a farmer's sunburn?
Me: Um.
Also Me: Most of these dudes were farmers anyway before they got scooped up to go to war.
Me: *attempts to find convoluted logic to justify pretty phrase*
Also Me: That's a lot of gymnastics, and it isn't working.
Me: It's pretty.
Also Me: I know.
Me: I could just leave it there, and screw the logic. I've gotten away with that before.
Also Me: Some editor will just call you on it. Actually, you know which one. She lives in New York.
Me: And then I could delay this decision until she does!
Also Me: You'd still have to fix it. Just fix it now.
Me: No, I could say "Too bad with your logic" and keep it.
Also Me: You'd also be wrong.
Me: Damn.
Moral of the day: It's the same damn sunburn. And this is what having a novel go through the professional editing process does to you.
