This morning, I reached a place in this writing journey that I’ve never been before.
Awhile back there was some blog storm about when a story should be submitted. Jessica Faust at BookEnds wrote that Good Enough is Never Enough, and obsessive-compulsive writers everywhere panicked. At the time, I totally agreed with Jessica. I would never send out less than PERFECT work, but I also realize that perfect today is not what I will be able to write in a year or more.
Heh, at one time I was perfectly happy with a little story titled “My Beloved Barbarian” and proudly sent it off to an RWA contest, only to be mortified when the judge sheets came back. Head hopping? What’s that? You mean, the horse can’t have its own point of view? *wails*
Personally, I’m always driven. I’m in a rush to finish, and submit. Now, not yesterday. NOW! Go go GO! However, I’m also painfully obsessive about making sure the work is my best.
If you’ve been reading here long, you know that I’ve been struggling with the Maya story. I’ve already detailed its long painful history, but suffice it to say that I just couldn’t get the blasted thing RIGHT. Every time I thought it was done, I decided it needed yet another revision pass. I’ve spent months in Revision Xibalba since the first draft in 2007, toiling over massive, painful revisions or struggling to whip out a synopsis that captured the spirit of the story. I felt trapped in Xibalba myself — constantly drowning in this imperfect project that I simply couldn’t get off my back.
Don’t get me wrong, I love this story, absolutely. It’s a total heart-wrencher and satisfies my personal craving for Story and Mythology; however, even though it’s one of the most complex and rich stories I’ve written, I could not get it to a place where I felt like I could really say I was finished.
After at least four major revision passes and four different attempts at a synopsis, I made my declaration yesterday: Synopsis or Death! I wrote out that synopsis in painful, brutal detail, refusing to go to bed until a cohesive draft was prepared. Nearly two full packs of index cards met their death in the attempt.
Braced for the worst, I re-read my synopsis this morning. I made a few slight changes.
And then I kicked that blasted submission package out of the nest with the first query.
Yes, friends, I reached a point where I was so sick of a story that I knew it was time to let it fly, or crash and burn. If I polish the manuscript one more time, I think its obsidian-mirrored shine will simply rub off. If I dink around with the synopsis again, I’m going to cut out my own heart and offer it as bloody sacrifice at the peak of the pyramid.
It’s the best damned story I can write today, and so, farewell blithe spirit. I wish thee safe travels out in the scary wilds of Queryland. May your hunt for Agent be fruitful.
It’s time for me to move on.
Victor, here’s fair warning that Gregar and I are coming. We’re coming for YOU.