This week I’m editing my new novel. As I work, this is my view. It is. Really. It’s my office window. I’m looking at it, not at the TV in the living room. Where OLYMPICS OLYMPICS OLYMPICS are on. And please don’t remind me that I can live stream the Rio games straight from my computer or phone. I am editing.
Hang on while I check the men’s beach volleyball score.
I’m also prepping for my family reunion in Austin this weekend. Dinner’s at six. If you want to see the bats, they take off at sunset from the Congress Street Bridge. Did anybody pick up Uncle Charlie from the airport? I warned you all: If you argue politics, I’m climbing to the roof of the hotel and ripping down the satellite dish so you can’t watch cable news anymore.
But mostly I’m editing. For those who wonder what kind of editorial notes I get on the early drafts of a novel, here’s a taste:
“This chapter needs a better out. There’s no escalation, complication, decision, cliffhanger or revelation but there ought to be.”
I fixed it.
And I’m going to print out that comment and nail it to the wall, to remind myself how every chapter in a novel needs to end.