My smartphone has a game on it called Move It! by AI Factory. The game is a spatial relations game, where you have pieces of various shapes on a board, and you have to move them around until you can guide a red square into the upper right hand corner. The game is fun, frustrating, and highly addictive.
Move It! is a lot like editing—at least the stage of editing where I am now. I have a WIP that I just finished putting through my critique group. I have reams of helpful suggestions that I cannot wait to get moving on—but there is so much work to be done, I find myself faced with a plethora of pieces scattered on a board of unknown dimensions.
Move It! specifies a target number—the least moves required to clear the board. Alas, my editing does not come with a target number.
My editing notes include checking for conflict in each scene, making sure Scene A leads logically to Scene B, noting my character goals for each scene. I need to follow character arcs, plot arcs, goal arcs. I have 3 POV characters, so I plan to separate their scenes out and listen to voice, check for character consistency, and make sure they are three-dimensional.
I also want to check continuity, symbolism, and rhythm. My ending needs some help, and the entire book needs a language overhaul because it sounds too middle grade and it’s YA. And of course there’s the nitty gritty of grammar, punctuation, and formatting.
Even with the target number, your game can run away with you. I had one game with a target of 72 moves and ended up with 265. I’m hoping to avoid that problem while editing, but you never know because when you change one story piece that changes them all.
At this moment, I am looking at the board, wondering how I can move those manuscript pieces in the most efficient way to get my book to the final position. I’m a bit overwhelmed and unsure where to start.
How you begin in Move It! sets you up for success or failure. A false start will get you to 265*. A good start narrows your available moves until only the successful path is left open to you.
Let’s hope I choose the right starting move with my manuscript.
How do you organize a huge editing project like this?
*My current score on that target 72 game is 76.
My Daughter: My Most Important Work-In-Progress
If all goes as planned, I am currently sitting in a quiet house. My daughter will be in school for the first time this school year. And unlike the last three years, this is full day!
So I am likely reveling in the silence and pondering a nap.
I am also thinking of this wonderful child who is such a mystery to me. She is full of contradictions:
She loves to go barefooted all the time, yet loves to dress up in pretty dresses.
She is fearless on the jungle gyms, yet scared of toothpaste.
She is confident enough to walk up to any kid on the playground and ask to play with them, yet fragile enough to sometimes cry because her art is not good enough.
She will remember a fact from a book we read 4 months ago, but cannot remember what she did this morning.
She is stubborn and unshakable, yet brimming with empathy and love.
This is the child who I walked to her first day of Kindergarten today. Who is equal parts excited and nervous. Who is simultaneously certain she knows it all, while fretting that she doesn’t know enough.
My child, who has grown up so much in the past year. She is no longer the baby who first went to preschool 3 years ago. She is not even the same child who entered preschool last year.
She is her own person, her own self.
She is my most important work-in-progress and the greatest enigma in my life.
This child I know so well—yet not at all.
I love her more than words can say and am so proud of the person my daughter is becoming.
And now, for that nap.