Yikes, paralysis!

I guess it's like waking up to find out that your legs don't work. I got the feedback from the editor on The Trouble with Sauce and found out my brain/finger combination didn't work. I was right, he did HATE it. The feedback was so comprehensive in its list of faults (the plus side could have been written bus ticket) that I couldn't look at the book for over 2 weeks. I felt like sending the advance back and not bothering. It's a new experience for me. Normally the editor's feedback would have jumping out of my bed, determined to make the changes required to the book. With this, every time I swung my legs to the edge of the bed, they simply refused to walk. I knew they could walk. I knew they could run and jump, but like the most cliched soap opera, it was not the flesh that was weak but the mind. And by the way, I should know about cliched soap opera, the editor asked if I had been writing soap (Yes it was that bad!).

However after a week of miserable silence followed by a week of bitching, moaning and declaring I would never walk again I finally managed it. No, I didn't leap out of my wheelchair to rescue a small child in danger but I did manage to sort the wheat from the chaff in the feedback, see the many valid points that were made, and discard those I disagreed with.

I am walking freely through the text now and very happy with results so far. The only problem is, how do you tell your editor nicely you think their communication skills need some work? Can I give feedback on feedback? Would I then get feedback on my feedback on the feedback? Would it ever end?

It's been sent off

I’ve submitted the manuscript The Trouble with Sauce.  It sat ready for a few days, I’ve taken it as far as it can go without outside feedback, but something was holding me back, I’ve been really nervous about sending this one off.  There are three possible reasons for this.

1) It’s just not good enough

Part of me thinks it doesn’t work, but I couldn’t actually say why. I can’t pinpoint anything and say that’s wrong. The plot is fun and the characters are engaging. When I go through it, each chapter works, it’s not too long, it progresses the story, develops the characters, entertains and usually ends with a reason to start the next chapter and yet, I’m unsure.

2) It’s my baby

When I send the email with the text to the ABC, it’s also the point where it stops being my baby and becomes a product to be packaged, altered, stuffed in boxes and put out on shelves. It becomes a thing that has to sell, rather than the progeny of my imagination.

3) It means I have to start on ‘the big one’

When this book goes off that means it’s time for me to start on the next adult one, the one where I actually try to be a good writer instead of mildly entertaining one. That’s pretty scary. I know the time is coming, paragraphs, chapters and ideas pop into my head. Like a kettle about to boil, things are rising with increasing speed to the surface. Time to pour soon. That in itself is challenging and reason enough not to send off Trouble.

So which is it?  Much as I would like to be about clinging onto babies, it’s down to options 1 and 3 with option 1 being the strongest. 

My editor said he would try to get back to me the next day. I thought that was ambitious. It’s now a week later and I’m fearing the worst. If the email response starts with a line about what he ‘did’ enjoy about the book, I know I’m doomed to paragraphs of what didn’t work. If on the other hand he kicks of with ‘there’s still some work to do,’ or ‘there’s a few bits need tidying up’ I know I’m OK, and the inevitable ‘but’ will be a positive one.