Blood, sweat, and editing tears

I’ve been editing the Slaying of the Bull (book 1 of the Tocharian Gospels Series) for four hours a day (after my day job), and much of my weekends for about a month now. The book is coming along, but it’s a tedious ordeal. Those that follow my blog know that I wrote the Slaying of the Bull about ten years ago, and then it just sat as life took hold. The publishing of the Island of Stone energized me to go back to my early work and bring them up to speed for publishing. This reevaluation of my work led to the larger story arc of the Tocharian Gospels Series, which I am still very excited to bring to the world. Although the Slaying of the Bull is a great story, I wrote it a long time ago now, and it needs a heavy editing hand. I’ve developed in my writing craft and style over the last decade, and what is on the page now doesn’t reach my current standard.

What I’m trying to get to is that it is all taking longer than usual, and I’m getting a bit burnt out. My goal is to have it out this month, but at what cost? It is getting harder to stay engaged with the writing, especially when it is beautiful outside, and things are inevitably going to slip through. I am getting towards the end of the book, but I am pretty sure I will need to go through it again.

No, I don’t want this post to turn into complaining! I will get there, and the story will benefit from my blood, sweat, and tears! But if you have any suggestions on how to stay energized and engaged, please send me a note below (or here)!

Cheers!


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Published by scottatirrell

Scott Austin Tirrell writes dark fantasy because apparently the real world doesn't contain enough dead people, ruined faiths, and gods with questionable motives. Most of his stories take place in Lucardia, a world with a long memory and a rather serious problem with its dead. Its people have been taught many comforting things about history, religion, power, and what happens when the reaper’s sickle swings. Unfortunately, much of it is wrong. Scott is less interested in heroes than in complicated people who stumble into mysteries they probably should have left alone—and then have to live with what they find. When he isn’t writing, Scott wanders old cemeteries in search of character names and thinks about fictional people as though they have personally inconvenienced him. He lives near Boston with his wife and maintains a healthy distrust of ravens.

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