The book is out there.
No, you can't read it yet.
Sorry. I disappeared on you for quite a while, didn’t I?
What have I been doing? Wedding planning and cooking and emailing and photo-taking and, of course, writing.
I thought writing a first draft of my book was a challenge. Over the last seven months, I’ve discovered that revising, rather stealthily, is a much more time-consuming process for me. It’s not as simple as interrogating the use of every word, sentence by sentence. (Though, that is indeed part of it.) For me, it has been a much messier experience—full of reviving bits from past drafts (sometimes fun!), fully rewriting entire chapters (painful!), and lots and lots of hitting the delete key (necessary!).
It hasn’t been a linear process, either. I didn’t expect that. From my first draft to my second, I cut 12,000 words. Then, my book got fatter in its third draft before slimming down once more in the fourth. When writing the third draft, sometimes I realised that my first draft was better than my second, and so on. The changes never stop.
The most difficult discovery? There’s no finish line. Reaching the end of a draft isn’t an achievement. It’s surrender. Sometimes that feels like defeat. On good days, it feels like relief.
There will always be more tweaks to make—a simpler description, a better verb. Yes, those can be tackled in the next draft, and the one after that. But there will inevitably be that point where the Word document gets locked, where—hopefully, one day—a galley is given a final reading before the book goes to print.
I’m getting ahead of myself. But the book is indeed out there. No, not for you—yet. It’s preening in inboxes, in London and New York. And I’m waiting, patiently as I can—which is not very—for it to be read by agents I’d love the opportunity to work with. I’m hoping for a single yes. That's all I need.
How long does this part take? Months, at least. But I have a rather fast-approaching wedding to distract myself with. Getting back to writing these updates for you too. And a new script idea. Day-to-day work, of course. And—gulp—the next novel, once I’ve caught my breath.
So lots more to come here in the weeks ahead. Thanks for hanging on.
What I’m reading: I loved Anton Hur’s translation of Sang Young Park’s Love in the Big City—it’s moving and queer and fun, and I hope to read more from him. I finally read Madeline Miller’s Song of Achilles—which is not dissimilar to my book, I must say! Elaine Hsieh Chou’s Disorientation is hilarious and cutting and the most distinct debut I’ve read in some time.
What I’m watching: The Staircase subverted my expectations; each episode was thought-provoking. Top Gun Maverick is a nearly perfect blockbuster. Everything Everywhere All At Once is the rare, marvellous film that had me laughing one moment, then crying the next.