It’s short story week here at The Tenth Word once again. Yesterday, I finished the final, pre-copyedit revision of “A Descended Man” and submitted it to the NIWA board. I don’t know what it is, but despite the fact that I wrote it in literally five hours idea to end, it’s probably the best story I’ve ever written, and accommodating the revision ideas of two commenters took only twenty minutes or so. I didn’t even have to rewrite the end as I’d feared; I just needed to add a few paragraphs. Bam.
I spent this morning thinking about my rewrite for my as-yet-untitled “hopeful cyberpunk” story. Since the first draft was banged out pretty quickly, it’s not surprising that it’s going to require a total rewrite, but I think I laid a pretty solid foundation. Compared to a short story a year ago that might’ve taken six or seven rewrites until I was happy, this one might only be one or two. Sometimes it’s hard to think this way, but I am getting to be a better writer on both an instinctive and technical level.
This will be the last week of short stories, however. By next week, the beta readers will (hopefully! hopefully!) have some comments for Fugitives from Earth, and then I get to go into overdrive. In order to meet my hard deadline of mid-November, I need to do all of the rewriting in no more than 8 weeks. That’s a little intimidating.
What’s even more intimidating is the more technical aspects of releasing a book. I need to get an ISBN. I need to decide on a printer. I need to–deep breath–get a cover. Oh, and do the layout, find some way of getting it copyedited, and probably a million things I can’t even think of right now. Thankfully I’ve got NIWA around to answer at lot of my questions. Unfortunately, all of this is likely to cost money that I can’t really spend; a full professional copyedit can cost thousands. Hopefully, I can network a better solution.
Finally, I’ve been deeply engrossed in the audiobook version of Alfred Lansing’s famous 1959 book Endurance: Shackleton’s Incredible Voyage. It’s a very intimate chronicle of the men who took part in Ernest Shackleton’s failed 1914 Trans-Antarctic Expedition and the bitter privations they suffered over the next few years. I love the history of exploration; the vicarious thrills of any adventure story are always magnified when you know the story actually happened.
If you’re wondering why this isn’t on Goodreads yet, it’s because I’ve given up on Mira Grant’s Feed, and I’m loathe to admit it.
Anyway, I’ll get that fixed up and you can check it out later. Other than that, see you Friday at the latest.