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Be obsessed with letting your language ‘breathe’
This is code for: “Be unwilling to revise anything but inexcusable errors and typos.” This is because you must trust, you must trust in the process (didn’t your Discount Life Coach tell you that only last week?), you must understand that those words in that order in those sentences came out of you by Divine Inspiration and cannot be tampered with without losing their ‘freshness’ and ’spark.’
‘Freshness’ and ’spark’ being code for: “Accidentally getting it right.” Because you don’t actually have a clue what you’re doing.
Experience? Practice? Education? Time-tested techniques for shaping, honing, polishing written language? What do you think you are, a buffing wheel?
Don’t waste your time on rewriting stuff you’ve already written, whatever you do. Think about how many more books you could publish if you stopped worrying about how the last one turned out and got busy on the next. You’d be a millionaire in no time!
This is why so many people are self-publishing books these days with titles like God Wants You to Write.
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Look for guidance only from peers on unsupervised critique forums
Because, as we all know, money always flows toward the writer. So be sure to get everything you need to become a successful author for nothing, as a fool and their money are soon parted.
At least you hope so. After all, you’re counting on lots and lots of fools out there with lots and lots of money to buy this book you’re accidentally writing in spite of yourself.
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Be correct that your peers have little to teach you
Well, it’s true.
Which is why it’s so easy to dismiss them as callow unbelievers if they actually suggest revisions. Or—heaven forbid—going back to the drawingboard.
The problem is your peers don’t know any more about this work than you do. So their opinions, no matter how well-meaning, can’t possibly be any more than amateurs’ surface reactions to a deep, complex, multifaceted craft no one has ever completely mastered before they died. Not even Stieg Larsson.
The truth is you’re probably an unrecognized genius—that’s why your critiquers misunderstand you. I mean, what expertise are they going to use to recognize you with? They’re a bunch of amateurs.
Except the ones who are even more amateur than you are, of course. Those guys love you!
You are the only real authority on your own work, unlike all those OCD nitpickers who style themselves ‘experts.’ (Good thing publishers have unloaded most of them.) Publishers are a big, shiny store window. You are a customer.
Victoria Reply:
June 28th, 2011 at 10:11 am
This certainly can be dangerous, Andrea. I intended to mention that, too, but I wrote this post yesterday morning while I was still sleepy and forgot.
One of the warning signs of Revision Fatigue is a sudden, blinding bolt of inspiration at the end of months or years of revision that you must alter something fundamental to the plot that will require rewriting the entire novel. It happens to me. It happens to my clients. “Let’s make the hero the villain!” You betcha.
Really, only a professional can tell you whether this is the one thing you need to make your novel utterly brilliant or simply the raving of a depleted mind.
Andrea Reply:
June 28th, 2011 at 4:32 pm
That’s a good point. Just the other day I had an idea in the shower (isn’t that where all the best ideas present themselves? Well, that or when I’m trying to go to sleep!) and could NOT get it out of my head. I couldn’t move forward until I gave in, wrote in the plot point, and made a bajillion revision notes to myself as to how I could backtrack and work it in from the beginning.
This happens to me at least twice with every MS. I get very frustrated with myself.
Victoria Reply:
June 28th, 2011 at 4:37 pm
Yeah—join the club!
But that burst of imagination is why we do this work. The safest way to handle it, honestly, is probably to just write a brand new story. Those usually turn out better than the original anyway. Terrifyingly enough. . .