Well yesterday’s editing managed to conquer a whole thirty pages. Which is slightly (about twenty pages) less than I’d have liked. Not only that, I’ve worn my evil red pen down to a mere nub. Seriously: the little plastic nipple-thing on the end has gone from an outie to an innie. On the plus side, the metaphorical cutting floor is now strewn with the corpses of words, sentences and paragraphs. Hey, even whole pages have been consigned to the morgue, with a ‘don’t call us, we’ll call you’ tag tied to their toes. Which is a shame, because I REALLY liked some of those words and phrases. But, you gotta kill your darlings right? I have no idea what kind of word massacre I’m looking at right now, but I’m hoping it’s somewhere round about 10%.
Anyway, the current expenditure of red ink has the book now sitting at 50% editalicious pages. So (and you knew this was coming) if the finished book is the same height as Godzilla was in 1954 (before he started working out) then I’ve edited almost 140 tubes of Aquafresh Extreme Clean toothpaste (not the family jumbo sized ones though, just the normal 75 ml plastic tubes) laid end on end. Which is almost enough toothpaste to fill 25 pints. Not something you want to drink on an empty stomach, but it will give you minty fresh breath, on your way to the hospital.
The long and short of this is that the book is taking nearly as long to edit as it did to write. I’m going to pretend that this is a good thing.