I had been dreading this critique. Dreading it because it was from someone whose life is writing and words and grammar and all that stuff that I pretend to be good at.
The results were not bad, but they were also not good. There's a good story in there, the characters are likable, the dialogue is top notch, and the over all premise is really promising. But, there are also...issues. Things that don't make sense. Things that are technical no-no's. Things that are just cliche and beyond belief. Yeeesh. Ouch. Blarg.
It was a lot to take in.
It was maybe too much to take in.
Seeing critical comment after critical comment is hard. I tried to channel my inner professional and take it in stride. Then, I remembered that I'm not a professional, and cried into a glass of whiskey while I watched Bob's Burgers, wondering what the hell am I even doing thinking I can do this.
Then my husband handed me one of my Christmas gifts.
It was a copy of my favorite book, by my favorite author.
And inside was just what I needed to see right now.
|Angie, finishing your first book is no small task-- you should be proud of yourself.|
Keep it up, never stop believing in yourself!
Best gift ever.
Editors are a necessary evil. I would rather Will tear my work up now while I still have a chance to correct it, than some asshole on Amazon (not saying that won't happen but it's Will's job to do it.)
So the next step is to take all the suggestions and arrange them chapter by chapter and start fixing the problems.
This is what writing is. This is how it works. This is how a good book becomes a great book and a great book becomes fucking awesome. It sucks having one's flaws pointed out, and I may sulk and even cry about it, but I will take it and learn from it.