It’s the second week of Camp Nanowrimo and I’m still steadily editing (say that five time fast) Odd Duck.
I only pledged an hour a day but it’s hard to stop, once I get started. Thank heavens.
Now that I know what the book is about, I’m smoothing the logic, beefing up the evidence, rearranging the furniture to enhance the literary feng shui, and pulling the extra scenes and subplots that didn’t quite fit the theme. Those, I’m sticking ‘em in my “Bits” document, where all my darlings languish, their sentences commuted from deletion to imprisonment with the possibility, if not the probability, of parole.
I’m also watching my metaphors.
Repetitions, too: there are a couple of phrases I enjoyed so much that I had nearly every character try them on for size, and I was particularly fond of “plus”, “mostly”, and “probably”—though that last one may disappear by later chapters, once I started throwing clues at my MC and we both had a better handle on the plot.
Once again, my characters are nodding and blinking and drinking and raising their eyebrows and fiddling with coffee cups. If you watched it on fast forward, it would resemble a St. Vitus’ Dance Marathon sponsored by Maxwell House.
And speaking of overcaffeination, what was up with those four paragraphs missing random letters? At least two of my fingers appeared to be dancing to different drummers or moonlighting on a different project—not, apparently, one of mine.
But it’s all coming together and I’m leaving solid, if not polished, chapters in my wake, a word, a scene, an hour at a time.
The last camp I went to, I came home with a couple lanyards, a terrible sunburn, a total of five (mismatched) socks, and five cumulative pounds of sand.**
At the end of this one, I may have a decent book and third degree editface.
*And the ability to play the soprano crumhorn, practice the bassoon under a concentrated attack of mosquitos and bitchy singer/actresses, and MacGyver the center communal washing machine into accepting fewer quarters than it originally demanded. Interlochen is indeed the total experience.