I am happy to report that I typed THE END on the first draft
of my latest Work In Progress.
First draft…if you aren’t a writer, that term might not mean
much. To an author, it might signal a book nearly ready to go to her editor, or
it might mean several more months of work. I’m taking a wild guess on this one,
but I think there are at least two more months of editing ahead for me. There
are times a page will spew out of me. There will be enough dialogue, enough
description, the point of view (POV) is deep, and only a few tweaks are needed.
Other times, it’s a bare bones narrative that needs layers of work.
Maybe I can give you an example. This is a first draft:
Laughter came in with the jingle
of the bell above the door. Magpie MacKenzie glanced over
Three women and two men tumbled
into the shop, apparently anxious to leave the cold outside. The midday sun
blazed through the front windows of Magpie’s Mercantile, but outside the chilly
wind snaking through the mountains severely neutralized the sun’s rays.
“Good afternoon.” Magpie
descended the stool as comments sprinkled the air.
The sweet sense of pride that
enveloped her whenever someone appreciated her shop never grew old. As soon as
the door closed behind patrons, they became immersed in textile creations on
the left; music boxes, some small wooden instruments, and pottery displayed on
the right. The counter nestled next to the music boxes.
After I did my first edit, it reads like this:
Laughter mingled with the jangle
of the bell above the door. Magpie MacKenzie glanced over her shoulder from
atop the stepping stool where she arranged music boxes on the top shelf of a
four-tiered display.
Three women and two men tumbled
into the shop, hands stuffed in coat pockets and chins
“Good afternoon.” Magpie
descended the stool as comments sprinkled the air.
“Hi.”
“Oh, it’s warm in here.”
“What a great store!”
The sweet sense of pride that
enveloped her whenever someone appreciated her shop never grew old. Although
the store was narrow, the depth of the shop was four times the width. To the left
of the entry, a stairway led to her apartment upstairs, and to the right, where
Magpie worked, a counter and shelves. As soon as the door closed behind
patrons, they became immersed in textile creations on the left; music boxes,
some small wooden instruments, and pottery displayed on the right. The counter
nestled next to the music boxes. Beyond, deeper into the shop, customers found
carvings, sculptures, and paintings.
I can’t guarantee it will read the same once I do my final
edit of the book, but it’s much richer than the first draft.
Besides layering in description, appropriate dialogue, and
attention to POV, I’ll comb through for over used words, inactive verbs, words
not needed, scene clarification, tightening, and the list goes on. The good
news is as the years go by, and I write more and more books, some of this fine
tuning happens as I write. Practice makes perfect. Or so I hope.
Next month, I’d like to say it’s completed and on an editor’s
desk. Wish me luck.
