I’ve officially started final edits on book 6 of the DSA. This will close out the inaugural season for the series, marking this as the end for me until after alpha readers comment on the books. I’m almost DONE.
And I am FREAKING OUT.
Closing out a project…
There is this sense of trepidation whenever I reach the end of a project. I’ve spent months fine-tuning and tweaking language, plot points, dialogue and more. Months asking questions about the work, nit-picking details and mysteries to see if they do enough to push the story forward.
Yet the fear remains.
It does so for a number of reasons:
The phoning it in factor. This is a real concern. At the end of a grueling project, months of time spent hammering together the perfect draft, the worry is there that maybe I didn’t put in enough time. Maybe another week, another pass, another draft would make it pop more.
Was that last self-edit just me spinning my wheels or did it strengthen the narrative? Could another one tighten the language, ratchet up the tension, or is it merely terror at sending it to other people?
Is this absolutely ready for other eyes?
Is it good enough to hand to friends and family. Has every question, every doubt, every concern been addressed and redressed within the narrative? Reaching the end never actually means the end, but it needs to be pretty damn close in order to feel comfortable asking someone else to give their two cents. If the first feedback received mentions the fact someone’s name changed halfway through the book (IT HAPPENS) can I handle it maturely?
The answer is no…
Little discrepancies, small plot holes are the bane of my existence and one of the reasons I pour through my drafts as many times as I do. I could let someone else find these errors, could totally allow others to pick up my slack so I can move onto the next draft, the next project, the next world, but I wouldn’t feel right with that.
This is my baby and it has to be perfect.
Accepting the end.
Acceptance is a tough concept for me as an author. Letting the books take wing and fly is like asking a newborn to feed and change themselves. Daddy ain’t gonna let that happen. So what have I done to accept the end, to allow a project to reach the finale?
Slowing down for reflection. When I started this final book in the DSA Season One, I built in an extra week of edits. This isn’t because the manuscript needed it. Broken Loyalties is one of the tightest drafts in the series so far. (You’re going to love it. It’s so much fun. Well, maybe not for the cast, but as a reader you’ll dig it.)
No, the extra time was for me to reflect on the journey. To tie off all concerns, to really dig into the narrative as a whole and make sure everything lines up just right. Not just for this season but for those to follow. It’s clocked in at almost 250,000 words so it’s a journey.
This method allows the pressure of producing this work to more gradually fall from my shoulders. To better see how things started and why it is where it is at the end. Every choice, every stray notion, everything comes into play here and by giving that extra time – taking those moments to pause and consider it helps to better understand why this is the end, here and now.
Savor the win
It may be called the end, but it never is. Alpha readers will take the DSA and offer feedback, which results in new questions to be asked. New perspectives to address through the narrative. Then it heads to my editor to be torn apart and rebuilt better than ever.
More readthroughs. More notes taken creating more changes to implement or argue.
This isn’t the end, merely the first round in a marathon for the next six months. Still, savor the win and accept the end as it stands at this moment. For this part of the journey.
Then get back to work.
