With an entire weekend at my disposal, I thought I'd get to grips with what I have stopped calling 'the book' or 'the novel' and started calling 'the beast'.
For those who aren't usually compos mentis when they read (Monday mornings - woo!), not too long ago I recieved some unofficial feedback from an agent who was rejecting me. Feedback that was, to be fair, perfectly true. My initial 'sending out' pack, the Agent Trap (TM), was revised and honed two or three times more than the rest of the novel.
The Agent Trap (TM) was good, the rest - not quite so good.
Which means, with a certain sense of - yes - inevitability, I was going to have to work on the bulk of the beast.
Most of the build up to the act was spent wrestling with the enormity of the task - sure, I edited the Agent Trap (Oops - TM - nearly forgot) two or three extra times, but it was only about 6,000 words long. Revising the rest of the book three times would be akin to sitting down to edit War and Peace.
Anyway, it was a cracking weekend's work. The house was most chilled all weekend. Yes; chilled - living with a Luddite, an astrophysics finalist and someone I know owns electronic surveillance equipment. One buried himself in books, another has eschewed all forms of technology (apart from Sky Sports, it would appear), and the last was probably trying to listen to the other two. Result?
An almost perfect writing environment.
A little bonus was the storming 'Saturday Sport Show' presented by Mr. Patrice Scullion on Dream 107, and being able to go online (courtesy of housemate Khalil) and listen to Pat. To make things even better, a lot of the old RaW Krew were online and listening and chatting, which was cool. Yay Pat!
I also learned that hangovers and over-charged electric toothbrushes do not mix.
A weekend well spent, methinks.