Before writing what would become my official debut novel, I’d written three others, all of which were written at breakneck speed as NaNoWriMo projects. They were my “practice novels.”
It turns out, I’m fairly willing to churn out garbage first drafts. The real hurdle is DRAFT 2. Not draft 1.2 or 1.8 but the real overhaul. Apparently, I’m a fast writer but an arduous editor. Which is why I avoided editing my first three manuscripts and just moved on.
This meant that when I confronted the 90,000 word document that was to be my first published book (and my first romance), I had no experience. I had to fly on pure instinct and the first instinct I had was that I couldn’t wrangle the beast in its digital form.
To truly give myself distance and approach it with the eyes of both a reader and editor, I had to print it out. This instinct turned out to be correct and I repeated it with my next novel. It feels like a waste sometimes–of money, of paper—but my brain is not one that stays well organized in the digital realm. I need a red pen. I need to take notes, not just jump in.
I print the manuscript single-sided so I have plenty of space to write notes. I pop it into a three inch, D-ring binder while I work. This makes it easy to flip through, and allows me to fill the pockets of the binder with any extra documents I’ve made related to the book.
One benefit of making it physical is the feel of the manuscript in your hands, the shock of, I wrote this? Omg, I wrote this! Do not underestimate those feelings. They’re an excellent motivator when you’ve finished months of hard work only to find yourself back at the beginning.
On the chance it might help any other writers out there (especially romance), I’ll share how this manuscript gets marked up:
Yellow tabs on the top help me find each chapter.
Blue and pink tabs on the side help me keep track of whose POV we’re in during scenes (woefully gender conforming for an M/F romance, but pink and blue are the only colors I have that match across multiple sizes of sticky notes). This gives me, at a glance, an idea of how balanced or imbalanced my characters’ POVs are and if we’re away from an MC for too long.
These colored tabs are matched to large sticky notes at the start of each scene. Here’s where my education in screenwriting starts to show because I summarize each scene similarly to how it would be on an index card. À la Save the Cat’s* advice, I include notation on whether the scene has conflict and whether it moves from positive to negative or vice versa.
In my first book, I used orange tabs to mark places where letters between characters were on the page. In the sequel, they were multipurpose. I used them not only to mark letters but also heat scenes and timeline indicators (all labeled on the tabs).
In Book 2, which contains a thread of mystery, purple was introduced. These tabs marked places where clues were on the page.
Before sitting down to read and annotate, I get out my trusty multicolored clicky pen. (Red will be most prominently used, but green will take notes on other things I need to remember that don’t call for changes.)
This, for me, is the easiest way for my brain to tackle developmental edits. When I’m in my original document on the computer, I struggle to see anything but the details. I’m on the spectrum and I have a hard time switching gears or switching places. If I leave one chapter document to peek at another for reference, I will lose the thread very quickly. But when I have a physical tome in my lap? I can stick my finger in the spot I’m referencing and flip back and forth without my brain revolting.
Having the manuscript to mark up also saves me from another temptation—the temptation to edit as I go. The point of my read through is not to actually change the words, but to take notes on why they have to change. This keeps me out of the weeds.
Another benefit? Since it feels more like reading a book, it’s easier to notice when I’ve hit a boring part. And there is nothing—nothing!—so satisfying as putting a big old red “X” across a whole page.
And finally, my favorite thing about marking up a physical manuscript is the ritual that has started around it:
When I’ve sent the manuscript to my copyeditor and I’m ready to move onto the next book, I open the rings on the binder, take my book out and bind it with long brads. I’ve usually already made a cover page for it on heavier stock that has lived in the binder’s clear cover pocket. I slide that out, three-hole-punch it, and add it to the bound manuscript. When I’m ready to print the next book, it’s a similar ritual of designing the title page and sliding it into the now empty binder.
These rituals that mark big beginnings and big ends are a nice way to remember how hard you’ve worked and how far you’ve come. Don’t forget that each step of each book is an achievement. Celebrate it!
Notes:
- The developmental read through is a good time to start creating a stylesheet, keeping track of characters, locations and more.
- Paper and printing are expensive right now and places that feel like they should do it affordably, like big box office supply stores, actually charge an arm and a leg! My recommendation: Look for a well-reviewed mom-and-pop print shop that focuses on big orders. They will usually take small jobs like this if you ask and since they buy paper in huge volumes, they can pass that wholesale benefit to you. I pay about $20-25 for 300-350 pages.
- If you don’t save or display these old manuscripts, then remember to recycle 🙂
*Save the Cat is a book by Blake Snyder that focuses on story structure for film. There has since been a companion book by Jessica Brody geared toward novel writing, but I’ve yet to dive into that one.
