I’m down to that place where I hate my novel. I have some of the novel on my e-reader, and it looks… well, disturbingly like a book. You know… the kind of book where people point out typos and misused words, and where you’re not completely sure whether it was written by an adult, or an over-zealous toddler.
My past self has also used the e-reader’s note-taking capability to leave me a series of obscene jokes and asides. I can’t completely decide whether I should cut the things that the note refer to, or if I should emphasize them, and call the book ‘funny’. It’s a little like having a book with audience partici—pation going on in the background.
Clearly, I thought I was being funny at the time, but there’s nothing like arrowing your way over to the note in the middle of the page, fiddling around with e-reader button(s) and winding up with a sophomoric comment. There are, of course, just enough useful comments in that version of the text that I can’t just throw it away and start over.
Right this second, I’m debating whether I’m throwing too much away out of my revision out of a desperate desire to make it go faster.
I’m down to 39 pages left in that revision organization of mine. And I really do think about taking those thirty nine pages and throwing them all in the trash. The trash-trash, not the probably cut from this book file.