Love's Sweet Home -An insight to my pitiful editing process

Love’s Sweet Home, besides being my second book is what I consider to be my state of mind. That’s where I put myself when I’m working on a new book or going through the dreaded end edits or re-edits. That’s where I’ve been for the past week and thought that my readers might be interested in how the process works for me.

So, I’m sitting here, minding my own business and new thought pop into my head. At my age, new thoughts are usually confined to my writing, or, a really funny thing. (I crack myself up a lot.) The new thought provokes me to scramble to my word program and open a new page. Staring at the blank page, I begin to type and what comes out rarely has anything to do with that new thought.

Many, if not most authors begin with an outline that lays out the characters, plots, background, research of facts if required, twists and turns, beginning, middle, and ending. Not me. You have to be very organized and patient to manage that, and I’m not either of those things. Thus, as a rule, I simply start writing and see what happens.

After I’m totally surprised by the story that’s unfolding, I start my List of Characters page. Here’s where I build my character, physical features, age, including birthdate, and their family and friends. I might not use some of these characters, but it fleshes out my main characters in my mind.

I write in sequential chapters, each chapter being a separate file, and only rarely will deviate to write a future scene and save it in the notes folder. Actually only twice. When the chapters are finished, I read them again, making changes or correcting them. This is edit #1.

When the manuscript is finished, I read it again from beginning to end, making what changes and corrections I feel is needed. Edit number 2. *Now, I’m not liking the story quite as much.*

At this point I send it to a friend and beta reader #1, to read it for story content and enjoyment. This is honestly a bit of an ego stroke for me. This reader loves everything I write and declares the book she’s just finished as her all-time favorite of all my books. She then points out errors and conflicts to me.

You got it, I read those parts and fix them. Edit #3. *Beginning to wonder if the time was well spent.*

Next, it’s off to beta reader #2. This reader reads it for the same reasons with the addition of grammar check and sends it back. Taking a deep breath and perhaps waiting for a few days (or weeks), I read through again, and accept or reject the suggestions written in the book by beta #2. This usually results in more writing to fix, add, or remove parts of the book, and tying up loose ends that I’ve discovered. Edit #4 is now a dark memory. *At this point, I sometimes discover that I write crap. Lack of faith in myself is setting in.*

Now it’s beta reader #3’s turn to tear apart the damn work I once loved. Their job is the hardcore editing of the book. In case you haven’t figured it out by now, I write fast, often with total disregard of grammar and typing mistakes. *my computer likes to leave out letters that I’ve typed and I need to recheck every word. Sometimes I’m moving so fst that I don’t ntice them and I’ve added more to the book since the last beta reader checked it. Honest, that’s true and nt jut an excse.*

Here we go again. Re-read the chapters and make corrections. That means adding a bit more to the story. Edit #5. *What the hell was I thinking when I wrote this book? It’s a mess!*

This is where I walk away from it for a while. I need to soothe my bruised ego and stay away from the bloody characters that I’m starting to dislike intensely. When I return, I begin the process of putting the chapters together I read each of them again, correcting, changing, deleting, and adding before they are added to the others to be formatted. Edit #7. *Ugh!*

Once they are formatted, they are sent out for one last beta read and edit and then returned to me. *pulls on hair and growls*

Edit #8. Same routine, however, at this point far more may be added to the manuscript-- paragraphs and pages. Literally pages. A longer space between working on the book now, sometimes a month.

Edit #9. The finish line is in sight, but there is a minimum of 8 furlongs to go. Same song, 116^th chorus. Read, moan, change, read, groan, add more, sob, change the third paragraph on page 212 for the umpteenth time, pass-out. Having not tortured myself enough, I pick-up where I left off. Read, change… you get the idea. *runs around house with hair on fire*

Now I turn my attention to the cover. This is often the best part if I can find models who fit the description of the characters I have in my head.

Whew, it’s finally time to publish, and that means finding the correct file first. So, I have to read the damn thing again! *dirty word, dirty word, dirty word*

That’s edit #10. But in reality, it’s actually more than that, but it’s happened so many times I’ve lost count.

Oddly enough, the book can end up being published without a single beta reader reading the entire book. Tht’s jut betwen us,  k?

Publishing day! Hooray! And pretty much nobody buys it.

*Crap.*

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The low-down on Love’s Tie That Binds

To this day, Alinor and Tristan de Clare remain my favorite characters I have created. They are as much a part of my life as any “real” person I know.

It’s hard to explain the love of a fictional character that was born in your head. They are your children. So, I think I’ll talk about the birth process.

At the time I was recovering from a terrible illness, and 2 bypass surgeries - one in each leg. It had actually been years of remarkable pain that prevented me from sitting at my computer for more than a few minutes to check my email. Then, one morning in January of 2013, there was no pain as I sat in my computer chair! ‘I think I’ll write a letter.’ I opened up my word program and instead of “Dear…”, I typed:

Beaumont Palace, Oxford England

April 22, 1213

A low, slow, drizzling rain blanketed the countryside, deepening the shadows while giving that misty appearance that did little to improve his mood. It was good to be back in England again, the home he had dreamed of for the last eighteen months. It had been much longer since he last set foot on English soil, having lived in Normandy for three years prior to his captivity.

Home, what a foreign word these days, even the joy of being here had been dampened by the ache in his bones and the throbbing pain in his side. Eighteen miserable months languishing in France serving as a kinsmen hostage to King Philip II, left him depleted of the hard earned confidence from his knights training. All at the whim of his own King John. John had caused his own problems, fighting with Pope Innocence, and expecting his subjects to bear the cost. Be it money, lands, freedom, or standing, King John took it as his due. Standing outside the palace, Tristan de Clare leaned against the cold, wet stone of the gate, delaying as best he could the moment when he would once again face his liege lord. His own personal freedom being too new to be thrust aside as the king willed.

Tristan doubted that he had won any favor through his sacrifice. More the like, he had been made a permanent target. Pushing his six-foot body away from the wall, he began the long walk to where King John awaited his return. A person who took notice of the thin, gaunt man slowly working his way through the throng of people would see a deep sadness that filled those dark blue eyes. A living testament to the hell he had been put through. His dark brown hair was matted and scraggly, dripping with rain, a thoroughly miserable image. A lesser son, he had lost his lands in Normandy, and all because of a greedy, foolish king.

There were no plans for a book in my head, especially since I had been trapped in ‘Writers’ Block World’ for more than 30 years. I sat back to read it, and I liked it. A lot. Had I not still been recovering from surgery, I would have jumped up to do a happy dance. From then on I spent as much time as I could tolerate at the keyboard.

As a writer, I do not work from an outline or a pre-planned sequence of events, I just write whatever comes into my head. My great love of history and genealogy influences my writing tremendously. Remembering my 24^th Great Grandfather, Richard de Clare, the book evolved around the struggle he faced with King John and the document that eventually became the Magna Cara.

I wanted Alinor to be a strong woman who took control of her life in the only way available to her in 1213 England. She is the bastard born daughter of Lord Hugh de Bertram and takes back that name when her husband died. Her first marriage was arranged when she was 11, by her hateful stepmother, to Ranulf de Bridge, a man who was old enough to be her grandfather. Ranulf was in a word, a pig. A cruel drunkard who gave his child bride a life of pain and terror paid little attention to the welfare of Bridge. He wasn’t a good lord to his land and people, using the rents and revenues to drink and gamble. From necessity, along with a need to heal her body and spirit, Alinor takes over the management of Bridge, building up the home crops and secretly increasing the earnings of Bridge.

Her dower land, Sunnid, was located next to Bridge and Alinor began to slowly buy the land adjoining it until Sunnid owned all of the valley it was located in.

By her intellect, business acumen, and building her life in remarkably secret ways, she built Sunnid into a haven for those who were broken in one way or another. For 20 years she managed to build a very wealthy and self-sustaining estate with various merchandise lines, beginning with the wonderful honey from their hives, later adding ceramics, woolen goods, including the clothing they produced and other cottage industries. She and the people of Sunnid live well above what most in England were at that time.

Tristan, oh how I love Tristan. Through no fault of his own, he became the bitter enemy of King John, fed by the King’s jealousy. Year’s before, King Richard had awarded land in Normandy to Tristan’s father, Devon de Clare, as a boon for his service and Richard’s love for his friend. Prince John was enraged by this, believing that the land rightfully should have been his.

After the death of his father and older brothers in the Holy Lands, Tristan inherits the Normandy land. All other properties of Tristan’s father were swooped up by his grandfather, Richard de Clare, 3rd Earl of Hertford, 6th Lord of Clare, 6th Lord of Tonbridge, 5th Lord of Cardigan (c. 1153–1217) (my great+ grandpa) leaving him only with the Norman land. Tristan’s first wife, Lucille, was forced on him as additional punishment from John and she did her best to fulfill her job and paid for it with her life.

King John conspires to have his old enemy, King Philip take Tristan’s property, believing it would be easily taken back when he invades.  

After spending 18 months as a prisoner of King Philip of France from King John’s machinations, Tristan returns to England a desperately ill and spiritually broken man. His mind and body weakened, he is taken to Bridge and wed to Alinor in a ploy to keep him from marriage into a wealthy and powerful family, and one day having an heir of his own.

Through it all, we discover what truly extraordinary people Alinor and Tristan are. Alinor’s family, the de Bertram are also modeled after my ancestors, as are several other characters that arrive in the series. Hint: my parents are characters in these books, and one of my favorite aunts!

All of my books contain at least one ancestor.

Next week: Come in and make yourself at home - Love’s Sweet Home

Happy reading!