If I hadn't started my Substack newsletter, I would still be writing the first short story of my mosaic novel which I began in 2020... Your reflections on proofreading help me understand how hard it is to let go and also how important. I used to write poetry and loved the brevity. There's less to rewrite to perfection.
Yes, letting go is an ongoing and vital part of the process - letting go of this sentence to move on with the next. It's one of many ways in which writing aligns strongly with spiritual practice. I admire those of you who publish fiction as a newsletter because you're constantly moving forwards - which takes a lot of courage!
Thank you for your honesty! I'm racking my brains trying to think of the worst blunder I've caught (or others have). I did once credit the wrong Islamic philosopher with a famous thought experiment! But I think that was caught in time. The worst thing - as you say - is when it gets past everybody, and then gets published. The proofreading stage is horrible - I do it through gritted teeth, just trying not to get drawn into bigger revisions than are necessary.
I think it was Yeats who had the tendency to revise his poems years after they were published, and I can empathise with that desire! But as you say, it's also just good to let things go. I was shocked to read that David Mitchell can't stand to read anything he's written before a certain book - which includes Cloud Atlas (one of my faves). So there's always that to bear in mind (the subject thing). As writers, we improve, though readers don't necessarily share our own appraisal of our work.
It's not just me who doesn't enjoy proofreading, then, that's a relief. And it's useful to hear that about David Mitchell. My publisher is friends with Philip Pullman and he's told me a similar thing: Philip refuses to acknowledge that some of his earlier books even exist! Perhaps I dislike reading my own work not because it's bad work, but because my storytelling hasn't yet reached its full potential. I certainly hope so!
I think it's that you have an internal sense of progression - where you are, where you want to be. And the little things that stick out to you are rungs on the ladder which other people may not notice. But I guess there's also the danger that you change the wrong things. I'm reminded of Erik Satie, who after his success for his minimalistic piano pieces dedicated himself to learning complicated Bachian counterpoint - arguably losing that earlier simplistic charm that got him admirers. Not sure what my point is! Maybe just that it's natural to want to improve, but not always easy to identify that that involves.
I actually think that's a very good point. For a while I thought the main thing my books needed was more readers! So I tried writing a thriller, jettisoning the fantasy world-building that was my natural strength. So yes, it's all too easy to chase false progress. The best way, I suppose, is to get granular: look at those small things you can improve in your craft, and keep improving them with practice, practice, practice
Great thought-provoking post, Tim. I feel for you as you move through the proofreading stage. I'm prone to the same struggle; it's why once I hand over a manuscript I've ghostwritten/edited, I try not to be part of the proofreading process. It's not always possible, but you definitely articulated exactly why it can be so painful.
Thanks, Sheridan. I'd definitely prefer not to be part of this bit, but it does serve a purpose I suppose. I'm just trying not to let my most critical tendencies come to the surface. I'm trying to view the typescript as if a friend had written it so I'm more forgiving!
"A novel is a complicated object" - well said! It's funny that we think of it as this linear thing, which (usually) by the end, it is. But when we're making it, it's this big ball of confusion. You pull a thread here, the thread over there doesn't necessarily pull, too. You have to hunt it down and pull it yourself. (Which, as you've illustrated, doesn't always happen!)
I do have to disagree with you on the ellipsis though. A well-placed dot-dot-dot is work of art.
A "big ball of confusion" is even better put! I think that's a large part of the joy of it, don't you, sculpting order out of that initial chaos? And yes...ellipses well wielded are a good tool...but I'm definitely guilty of overdoing it... : )
If I hadn't started my Substack newsletter, I would still be writing the first short story of my mosaic novel which I began in 2020... Your reflections on proofreading help me understand how hard it is to let go and also how important. I used to write poetry and loved the brevity. There's less to rewrite to perfection.
Yes, letting go is an ongoing and vital part of the process - letting go of this sentence to move on with the next. It's one of many ways in which writing aligns strongly with spiritual practice. I admire those of you who publish fiction as a newsletter because you're constantly moving forwards - which takes a lot of courage!
Great post, Tim. I can understand why proofreading is so hard but I'll bet you are glad that you did it, this time.
Thanks, Eve - yes, there's always something to learn, which keeps it interesting if not always enjoyable!
Thank you for your honesty! I'm racking my brains trying to think of the worst blunder I've caught (or others have). I did once credit the wrong Islamic philosopher with a famous thought experiment! But I think that was caught in time. The worst thing - as you say - is when it gets past everybody, and then gets published. The proofreading stage is horrible - I do it through gritted teeth, just trying not to get drawn into bigger revisions than are necessary.
I think it was Yeats who had the tendency to revise his poems years after they were published, and I can empathise with that desire! But as you say, it's also just good to let things go. I was shocked to read that David Mitchell can't stand to read anything he's written before a certain book - which includes Cloud Atlas (one of my faves). So there's always that to bear in mind (the subject thing). As writers, we improve, though readers don't necessarily share our own appraisal of our work.
It's not just me who doesn't enjoy proofreading, then, that's a relief. And it's useful to hear that about David Mitchell. My publisher is friends with Philip Pullman and he's told me a similar thing: Philip refuses to acknowledge that some of his earlier books even exist! Perhaps I dislike reading my own work not because it's bad work, but because my storytelling hasn't yet reached its full potential. I certainly hope so!
I think it's that you have an internal sense of progression - where you are, where you want to be. And the little things that stick out to you are rungs on the ladder which other people may not notice. But I guess there's also the danger that you change the wrong things. I'm reminded of Erik Satie, who after his success for his minimalistic piano pieces dedicated himself to learning complicated Bachian counterpoint - arguably losing that earlier simplistic charm that got him admirers. Not sure what my point is! Maybe just that it's natural to want to improve, but not always easy to identify that that involves.
I actually think that's a very good point. For a while I thought the main thing my books needed was more readers! So I tried writing a thriller, jettisoning the fantasy world-building that was my natural strength. So yes, it's all too easy to chase false progress. The best way, I suppose, is to get granular: look at those small things you can improve in your craft, and keep improving them with practice, practice, practice
Indeed. Good luck! :)
Great thought-provoking post, Tim. I feel for you as you move through the proofreading stage. I'm prone to the same struggle; it's why once I hand over a manuscript I've ghostwritten/edited, I try not to be part of the proofreading process. It's not always possible, but you definitely articulated exactly why it can be so painful.
Thanks, Sheridan. I'd definitely prefer not to be part of this bit, but it does serve a purpose I suppose. I'm just trying not to let my most critical tendencies come to the surface. I'm trying to view the typescript as if a friend had written it so I'm more forgiving!
I'm really glad someone else makes mistakes!
If making the mistakes is the best way to learn then I'm certainly learning a lot!
"A novel is a complicated object" - well said! It's funny that we think of it as this linear thing, which (usually) by the end, it is. But when we're making it, it's this big ball of confusion. You pull a thread here, the thread over there doesn't necessarily pull, too. You have to hunt it down and pull it yourself. (Which, as you've illustrated, doesn't always happen!)
I do have to disagree with you on the ellipsis though. A well-placed dot-dot-dot is work of art.
A "big ball of confusion" is even better put! I think that's a large part of the joy of it, don't you, sculpting order out of that initial chaos? And yes...ellipses well wielded are a good tool...but I'm definitely guilty of overdoing it... : )
Oh, "joy" doesn't even cover it... lol
And I'm sure some have shaken their heads at seeing yet *another* ellipsis in my work...