Its something like tickling yourself, a faint feeling of familiarity, but its just not that ticklish when you know its coming. Such is editing.
its a beast I’ve recently become much more familur with, on an up close and personal level.
be it combing through the labyrinth of tales in my own Missives or trekking through the world of my fellow authors, its a lesson of ones own faith in their work, and the joy of reading our friends and colleges.
I’ve stared at my pages for hundreds upon hundreds of hours. The letters blurring together in a rhythmic pattern, dancing off the page, taking my spell check sanity with it. Does this happen now? Or later, but wait,…she just had that in her other hand…
Continuity is part of the editing process as well. And when you know the story forwards, backwards, side ways, back ways, front ways and on your head. You come to be blind at minor hiccups in your own time-line.
But this is when that brave soul rolls up their selves, stretches their fingers and sets to work with an unbiased eyes. i have found it FAR easier to read through and edit a fellow authors work then it is to comb through my haphazard thoughts scribbled in a mad scrawl on college paper.
But it has to be done.
Like the manager for the social challenged artist, the editor reaches between the relative world, and that of the worlds we created, and attempt to bridge the ‘slight normalcy’ from one mind to the masses.
Such is my tip to those past and before me.
Thanks for the ink and the paper cuts!