So it's obviously been two months since my last update.
A lot of difficult internal work has gone into the final bits of Manetowak. I did toss my manuscript in a drawer for a few weeks, and when I took the book out, I read it through. And when I read it through, I had a minor existential crisis. Unlike the Man Upstairs, I looked on what I created and despaired, Ozymandias-style.
The prose seemed stilted in places. My ideas seemed small. My writing was Not Good Enough (tm) for all my lofty ideals. Reading my novel straight through made me feel like all the work, all the time and trouble I'd put into it, was not enough somehow, that I was a hack, etc.. I mean, all this is the kind of internal stuff that most people find unpublishable. But I am, as of yet, unpublished, and so these are the kind of thoughts I can and should share. If you have these thoughts: they are not the end of your writing.
I was reminded of an Ann Lamott essay called KFKD, about the radio station you shouldn't be listening to in your head, that you need to tune out. It took me a few weeks to break out of my funk, and then I started to tackle the laundry list of things I needed to revise (certain repetitive phrases I noticed, overused words, small character details, consistency issues, that kind of thing).
I've put notes around my TV / Monitor for certain key revision points.
On the other side of it, I had a draft that almost felt right. I was waiting on a few thoughts from significant friends on the changes I'd made to the ending, on this or that character moment, but the draft was cleaner.
After sitting with this draft for a few days (and after preparing a harrowing Call of Cthulhu campaign for some friends), I launched into the final stage of repairs to the novel, and one that is arguably the least essential for some: I took a page from C.S. Lewis' book and resolved to read the novel out, start to finish, making revisions based simply on how it sounded when I read things out loud.
Yes, this is C.S. Lewis writing. And yes, he was a childhood hero of mine.
So far, the difference it has made is astronomical. Certain passages read just fine on the page, but said out loud didn't land quite right. Phrases that seemed too much seemed just right; some things that worked didn't work. Ultimately, this is the kind of book I'd like to read aloud to anyone. Revising in this manner feels completely superfluous, but absolutely necessary.
I'm almost 2/3rds of the way through and plan to be done soon. Stay tuned; once I do some proper consultation, I'll figure out how to share parts of this epic, painful work with all of you.