The Editing Paradox

So. I sits down to do me some editing and the game changes. I knew UnNamed would be opening a can of worms, but I had no idea that revisiting it to clarify a character's development would be a traffic jam. It's not a huge spoiler to say that I introduced a time travel concept that I only worked out on a skeletal level for the first book. Tonight I had to revisit all of the concepts more fully to continue its promise.

Unfortunately, describing it in any detail would probably just confuse it. It's a much simpler idea rolled out in small doses as the story grows, but it's because of the other storylines and events that it  just doesn't sound as complex as any attempt to summarize it would. I know this means that I will have to reference the first book as well as recomb the 1st part of this book to make sure all facts line up. Of course, book one has the final say; it's published.

Now, I did need to work out the details before moving ahead, to make sure any more mentions in Part II line up; why make more work for later. However, it does mean I have to resist the urge to move backwards. The point of this edit is still lining up part 1 and 2 in its current sequence. I'm making sure that, while it's fresh, I'm aware of what I already have and only adjusting what contradicts as well as any grammar, punctuation and wording immediately obvious. I'm also allowed to add anything that can help with pacing or storytelling. At this stage though, my only rule is not going back. If I do, I might create a paradox in my thinking that forgets the chronology and screws up what the characters know or not.

I still have to draft Part III. Part I and II being cohesive will actually make Part III almost lightning fast. After that, I'm adding a reread of the first book before editing all three parts. Once all three parts are edited? I step away for a few days or a week then do a last edit. Nope, still not done, because I do the epilogue leading into the third book at the end of the first.

Although, I may have to check on whether I can technically call this one an epilogue... In the first book it was, but this one is more like a prologue but at the end of this book. I like to set the stage for the story at the technical end of each one, something that isn't just repeated so it's not a preview and certainly not a preface or foreword, which are author's notes at the beginning and end, nothing to do with the continuing story.

(I looked it up for anyone who wondered. Technically, an epilogue is only defined as a section at the end after the main plots have been tied up; doesn't specify that it HAS to be the same characters to count. The thing is that many old characters have the potential to show up again, so there isn't really a formal ending for anything until the last book is written.)

In any case, the struggle will be worth it. My notes grow but they also tend to get more organized as they come together.  Yes, often the idea of stopping mid-edit is horrifying for some people, but as I've said, I keep one rule at this stage and it's that I can't move backwards. Filling out a concept more fully so I can resume the edit only chopped into my time a couple of hours and it didn't reorganize my understanding and screw up the primary mission. 

One reason for this-- I keep notes of things I might have forgotten I wrote later now that I started over. As I run into them, I cross them out. If I jump around and change things, then I alter facts that I haven't processed yet, making my notes useless. If I get a good idea for later, THAT can go into my notes-- it fits into the forward-thinking rule. Because I still have many edits that will put me back to check on the newer notes, it CAN wait. 

Why create a time travel paradox in my own thinking? Now, in a simpler story, it's fine, but a complex idea becomes complex to read if I start playing Jenga with it. To edit a story like this, I have to start from the beginning and walk through it as the reader would. Every. Time. Anything that halts ME is going to halt the reader. Each time I make the journey, I am aiming to keep it moving. When the edit comes that I am not stopping, publish.

Really, I will love to see what this series becomes. As much as I love my first series for all it taught me about writing, I really feel the lessons are paying off in creating a very different story. I love when a new character stands in the horizon, holding a torch to pass for the sake of storytelling. I didn't want a story where the main character carries it so much that it can't continue without them. I wanted this to be a world where everyone else isn't just an NPC (non-playable character; sorry, gamer term on a writing blog) in 'their' world. It's never been more important to realize their lives even when it's not important to the story so that when they reappear, you don't think they were just lying on the floor with their eyes glazed over.

My hope is that your takeaway from this is in understanding why some processes are important to the type of story. Don't be afraid to write complex stories. If you find something is irritatingly flat, you can take notes on what to come back to or attempt to flesh it out right then. When you have this new understanding, you take it to future edits. No, you decided her personality would change so she wouldn't say it like that anymore. No, I decided his upbringing means he wouldn't know something like that now. Your first draft is your first impression of your world. That's it. Each draft reflects what you add to it when you get to know it better. It's not as complex as you initially think because you're making the connections to understand the transitions as you go. 

And yes, you can do a lot of backpedaling in a first draft. I know a lot of writers swear by the forward movement only rule here, to keep it creative, but there are three types of people: ones who dip their toes in the water and get in a little at a time, those who jump/dive in, and... those who don't swim at all. In terms of writing, either one of the first two are okay. You don't have to have perfect confidence to get things going. If you have to poke and edit and hedge a bit, at least you're moving. It isn't a mark of quality to be less confident. In fact, reasonably cautious writers are the ones that give themselves less work in the long run. Tortoise and the hare, if you will. Okay, hares can succeed too. I'd never hate on a fast writer because it's not less work just because the pace is different.

With that being said, a break is in order. I pulled away from the draft to take a 'break' and here I am. Not. Breaking. But now I am. If this is your break, thanks for sharing it with me!