I’m closing out the end of a solid two weeks of line-editing with my sanity at about half empty. I’ve about 22,000 words to go, which sounds fabulous, and is, but this material is a lot more raw than what’s come before it. I think — hope, pray — that the story and the emotional beats hang together at this point so I can focus on making sure what’s in my head is on the page. The good news is that if I need to, I have room to expand. My substantive edits combined with regular trimming has dropped the word count from 105,000 to 93,000, more than my original 10K target. So I’ve got wiggle room, if the need to wiggle arises.
Meanwhile, my beloved genre has been taking an ass-kicking around the web as bigots and their supporters remind us that they’ve never gone away or learned better. (See the SFWA and related controversies over the last few months as the prime example.) But where the Internet once sheltered hate in anonymity, it now reveals it, making efforts to combat it precise and swift. It’s still deeply disappointing — 2013 and this bullshit is still going on — more so because I expect better from the genre. The writers of the fantastic are not homogenous, but my idealistic heart beats believing that the genre is supposed to steer us towards our better selves and away from our worst. And I’ve seen so much of our worst these past weeks. This is still the work of generations, but we are up to the challenge of doing our part even if it feels like these roadblocks should have been torn down years ago.
I will see you fine folks on the other side of this edit — not a post-peep from me until it’s done.