I'm still editing. In the "I've crawled inside the book and I. Can't. Get. Out." fashion. Perpetually rotating myself around the words, and fitting in reading a book or three while I try not to let my head fall off. It's hard to keep my brain in there when it's on overdrive.
The past three novels I've read have left me with one feeling upon turning their last page: oh snap.
These authors know how to do it. How to unzip the cracks and climb into the crevices of my knowing to reveal something awesome.
I doubt they did that on the first write through. I'm pretty darn certain that their beautiful works of art were poured over, revised to the degree above nth and revised again.
Patience and focus are necessities, ones I'm forming a partnership with -- even as I dance in my seat and restlessly wish to go, go, go.
Because I keep returning to one thought, one driving notion that keeps me grounded. The story is worth it.