What happens next…

The first draft of Breaking Bread is done. Finally… Now begins the re-reading, re-writing, editing, correcting and proof reading part of novel writing. Why list all those tasks separately? Don’t they all fall under the umbrella of editing? Yes, but… Mind you, this is my own process –it’s nothing official. Most of what I do to write and edit a piece is entirely instinctual. Occasionally, there is an academic name for it and if I am lucky, my approach is valid!

Re-reading: It’s just what it says. I read the whole thing through non-stop to see how it sounds/feels as a complete work. I read it the way a reader who purchased a copy would read it. This shows up sections that drag, over-explain, or alternatively, move too quickly and need to be expanded upon. I don’t usually make changes at this stage, but I make notes on what to do.

Re-writing: Now I make the adjustments based on my notes. There will inevitably be parts that need major overhauling. Besides the parts that are awkward, boring, or somehow don’t make sense with the flow of the narrative, sometimes you simply change your mind. As was the case in this novel, I changed my mind about the villain. I dropped some clues along the way that need to be swept out of the story. (Actually I have a really horrifying alternate ending that I might share with you at some point. And no it was never the mom… it was Caitlyn). I also am taking into consideration some of the feedback I received here on my blog. As many of you expressed, the idea of a sister doing such terrible things is just unbelievable. I softened that aspect of the story accordingly. (My alternative was even worse… now you really want to hear it, don’t you?)

Editing: After sections have been rewritten, there is an extreme likelihood of error. What I mean is, you may have started with scenario A, rewritten it as scenario B and forgotten to change all or parts of a conversation, for example. Your rewrites will have an impact on later sections of the story and they will need to be altered accordingly. The timeline might be a bit off. A different character might have to speak words you intended for another, and so forth. So this is like rewriting redux but not as exhaustive.

Correcting: This is another re-read but this time out loud. (Actually I do that on all the previous trips through, but….) I read the book as if I were recording it for audio-book. This shows up awkward sentence structure and repetitive sounds. Sometimes, things look great on paper but when you read them aloud they sound terrible. I’ve crafted what I thought were lovely paragraphs describing a scene that when read aloud sounded pompous and overblown. Here’s the chance to fix those before you hit publish. Finally, I check that dialogue is natural sounding and not stiff or too formal.

Proof reading: At this stage you are checking for correct punctuation, grammar and spelling. And yes of course, the spell checker on your word processing program has been doing that all along, however… it cannot tell you when a correctly spelled word is being used the wrong way: it’s as opposed to its, their, they’re and there, from versus than, a/an, etc. I know there are programs out there that are designed to do that and frankly, I don’t trust them enough not to have a look for myself. I check all my proper names to make sure I’ve spelled them consistently.

After all this, I may read one final time. I have set the limit on my self-editing process at five times. Sometimes you just have to walk away. The next step is to pass off the manuscript to beta readers – people who will read and give not just praise but constructive criticism so that you can make changes based on their honest feedback. I have greatly appreciated all of your wonderful input on the story this time around. You are my alpha readers – reading the raw first draft as I wrote it, and for that I am very thankful. Nevertheless, my team of betas is standing by for further analysis. When they have finished, and given me their opinions, I will make further modifications and then it goes onto my professional editor for a final analysis before prepping it to publish. Whew….

Now… what to do next?

The Cafe

He waited at the window table so he could watch down the street. She was late, as usual. She would have the same excuse she always did. “It was the rain, darling.” Or “the train was behind schedule.” And he’d smile and accept it. Like he always did.

The red umbrella stood out against the grey sky. He knew without seeing the person beneath that it was her. She came inside on a gust of wind and brought enough water to create a puddle. Her laughter charmed the host and he waved off her apology as he ran to get the mop.

She turned, her eyes scanning the cafe until they settled on him. She smiled and his heart went to his throat. With purpose, she crossed the room and slid into the chair beside him. Not across from him, no. Beside him. So they could touch each other. Her knee rested against his leg as she leaned over to kiss him softly. She smelled like rain and lilies. He breathed in her scent as their lips touched.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” she said. “The rain has everything slowed down.”

He laughed out loud and kissed her again. “You’re wonderful.”

She touched his cheek. “You’re happy today.”

“Yes.” Happier than he’d been in the last five years. Maybe happier than he’d ever been in his life.

The waiter brought a basket of fresh bread and soft butter. He broke off a piece and buttered it, held it out to her. “Eat.”

As she took it from him, she asked, “Are you going to tell me why you’re so happy?”

Melting butter dripped onto her fingers from the bread. He watched it run in a tiny rivulet from one finger to the next. He wanted to lick each little drop. Instead, he waited as she chewed and swallowed before speaking. “It’s official,” he said and placed the documents on the table in front of her.

 

Out of Reach

I idly sit and watch from my throne of inertia
While the bridges I so carefully built
Are thoroughly and systematically destroyed
And with them, the pathways are forever cut off,
Leaving one side of the shore isolated from the other
Except for the occasional stone you throw
Which lands harmlessly at my feet
It’s as if the tectonic plates have shifted beneath us
And earth itself has put me beyond your reach

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