Revision is Fun (Or, How to Break Your Brain)

So, as most of you know, I’ve been revising Grave Touched since Feb.1st, and I just hit the halfway mark last night after a marathon session of cutting, condensing, and my personal favorite, second guessing.

Yep, that’s right. I got great feedback. I also discussed a few things over email with KD and Siri, and I feel better than I did but…the doubts always creep in.

My beloved husband asked me last night: “What’s this revision thing you’re doing? Aren’t you done yet?” (Hubby, who is my absolute #1 fan, does not write and truly doesn’t really understand it. I give him a pass because he’s awesome anyway). So, I felt honesty was best. Because I will be writing more books, and I will continue to have to revise them. ALL of them. Yippee.

So here’s a little primer on revision for those who don’t know or understand it (it’s okay. Really. I won’t bite your head off):

1. Read over editor’s critique and feedback. Have a good cry.
2. Spend about 24 hours just thinking about the revision — contrary to popular belief, I’m not cursing my editor or her ancestors. I’m actually thinking about the revision. Letting the feedback settle, ruminating about changes, wondering if I’m actually capable of making said changes… (Because, seriously, revision is hard work.)
3. Take and make more notes. Read over crit and feedback again. Make a plan for fixing stuff (or not. But winging it now won’t help).
4. Have another good cry.
5. Ignore — no, wait. Think some more, until you develop a migraine, THEN ignore the pending revision. Yeah, that’s it.
6. Talk about the revision to anyone who’ll listen (I’m looking at you, father-in-law person) and try to sound confident and cheerful and blasé. Sure, I gotta revise a 135k novel in one month with bad wrists and a painful eye. No freaking sweat. I GOT this.
7. Say a few extra prayers and ask for mercy on your soul. You’ll need it.
8. Begin revision.
9. Start asking questions. And…continue to ask questions until your brain is fried.
10. Ask editor (s) what they think. Proactive is my middle name. Really.
11. Mull over editors’ comments. Can focus on everything, ALL the things, except you know, that thing that needs to be done in less than two weeks. ..What was it again?
12. Continue revision. 10 whole pages revised! I can do this. I freaking GOT this.
13. Brain is bleeding, work is insane, and my wrist wants to commit suicide. I DON’T have this. Not…by a long shot (or a short one).
14. 30 pages revised, let’s throw a party
15. Brain. Is. Bleeding. Leave me alone. Why do you want to communicate with me? Did I not say my brain is bleeding?
16. 50 pages revised, let’s throw another party
17. Panic begins to creep in. I’m starting to wonder if I DO have this, and IF I’ll make it. Must…go…on
18. 75 pages revised, what do you mean I can’t work on it tonight? Don’t you realize the world will stop spinning and I will lose my mind if I can’t continue this torture?! GOSH.
19. Brain is…
20. 100 pages revised, I think I’m dead and no one told me
21. Panic. Do I keep this scene or kill it? But it’s a lovely scene — wait, it serves only one purpose. To be pretty. Out it goes.
22. Brain…
23….I have no brain. It got sucked out by the Revision Monster that lives in my fingertips.
24. I don’t think I’m gonna make it.
25. 150 pages revised, I need a stiff drink
26. Why…am…I…doing this again?!
27. Braindead, don’t talk to me. You won’t get an answer.
28. 175 pages revised, and I am really dead
29. I no longer have the power of speech. Nod if you understand.
30. 200 freaking pages revised, let’s throw a party…in hell.
31. Brain is really, really tired…
32. Must…keep…going.
33. 230 pages revised, I can see the light at the end of the tunnel — oh, wait. I’m hallucinating.
34. My fingers are falling off.
35. My book HATES me.
36. I hate my book. Can’t I do something else? Anything else?
37. I’m out looking for myself. If you find me, please ask me to wait…
38. There’s no one home.
39. The end…really? Am I hallucinating again?
40. I’m done. And now I will crawl into a hole and sleep for the next 5 years. Or die. Not sure which one is preferable…

And this, my friends, is how revision breaks your brain. Hubby person, see why I am mostly drooling and unable to hold a simple conversation and lock myself in my office for like, ever, and am so tired I am falling asleep at work and — *twitches* *twitches* *twitches*