The emotional stages of editing

Photo by Priscilla Du Preez 🇨🇦 on Unsplash

In my former corporate life, feedback was constant. There were formal appraisals of performance every quarter, regular one to ones with ‘coaching’ (AKA telling you what you were doing wrong) and as that feedback was often given by people who maybe weren’t that skilled in the art, it would often be BRUTAL. As a consequence, I got used to it. I even (occasionally) welcomed it.

Imagine my surprise, then, to discover that getting editorial feedback on my writing is an emotional rollercoaster, one that has seen me cry, be very angry indeed, and frequently hidden in a darkened room, filled with shame and remorse.

Because of the kind of person I am - see above former career - I have tried to ‘work on’ this, and become less emotionally attached and, frankly, less insane about it, but have realised over time that there is little point. The best I can do is learn to ride the rollercoaster, arms in the air, knowing that once it’s done I will be left with a curious mix of relief, exhilaration and the desire to go again, as soon as I have recovered.

In my efforts to ‘work on’ my response to feedback, the one thing I have discovered to be useful however, is an understanding of what the rollercoaster looks like for me. I now know where the highs and lows are, when I will go upside down, and how long the ride lasts. And I’ve realised this is pretty consistent. So if I do nothing at all, and just wait, I know when the ride will end, and I can get back to being a (sometimes) rational human being.

So, given that I am currently taking a ride on that rollercoaster, I thought I would walk through those stages here, both as a salient reminder for me, and to see if they resonate with other writers, or if you’re all out there being calm and logical and embracing feedback as a gift (if you are, tell me all your secrets).

1 Joyful denial

Just before I sent my work off last Friday I was in a GREAT mood. I am really enjoying writing my second novel (following the horror of getting to the right idea) and had felt really good about writing again. My editor and I had agreed I would send the first 25k words off to her, so I could have the comfort of knowing that I am on the right track/course correcting where necessary, and I love and trust her implicitly, so very much wanted to check in at this point.

This first stage lasted until approximately one millisecond after I had pressed send, at which point I was plunged immediately into;

2 THE HORROR

This is the point at which I realised that everything I have written is awful. All of it. I inevitably noticed spelling and grammar mistakes at this stage, but to be honest that was the least of my worries. Everything was wrong; from concept to execution and back again. I was mortified to have sent this to anyone, let alone a Publisher at Penguin Random House. I had to stop myself from reading it over and over again at this point, for fear of never re-emerging from the humiliation that is this part of the process. Thankfully this phase is usually relatively short, and leads onto every writers favourite pastime…

3 The waiting

Whenever people ask what my advice is to other writers, I always say to learn to wait. Whether its getting an agent, a book deal, for edits, for publication, whatever part of the process you are in, it all takes longer than you think. Now, this is something I HAVE learned to do, and I do it by distracting myself. There is no point in me trying to write at this point, my creative brain shuts down for the duration, so instead I do all the annoying, fiddly admin tasks I have been avoiding while I wait (and it works!).

4 Getting the feedback

I work with the most wonderfully emotionally intelligent publisher, who sent me an email first thing on Monday morning saying ‘I LOVE IT SO MUCH’ which allowed me to breathe during the hours before our Zoom to discuss her feedback later that day. Find yourself one of those editors if you can (!). This also allowed me to arrive at the Zoom in a relaxed and open mood, and we had a fabulous conversation about the novel, where its headed, what things I might need to work on, and where some changes might be necessary.

5 Rosy glow

I left that call excited. Isn’t this process magical, I thought. We’ve made it even better, I thought. I am so lucky I thought, I can’t wait to get making the changes, I thought. Until I didn’t anymore. By the following morning I had inevitable moved onto;

6 The aftermath

It’s this lurch I find particularly painful. I’m not even sure how it happens. One minute I am excited to get going again, the next I know that I am completely unable to make the changes and I don’t even why I thought I could be a writer, and all the positive things she said were just lies to make me feel better about myself. Luckily, having been through this a fair few times now, I know that I just have to wait this one out, and let my subconscious do the work. If I try too hard at this stage, I am likely to make it worse. I have to let the solutions find their way to me. On Wednesday afternoon I found myself making notes on my phone while walking of a new scene, to replace one that isn’t working. On Thursday I found myself voice noting a new opening line. My fingers are starting to itch to get moving again.

And then I will start the whole bloody cycle all over again, because that’s how it works for me. And it’s OK that it works like that. I have a wonderful coach/mentor (the writer Sophie Hannah) who I work with on all things emotionally connected to writing, and we were talking this week about disappointment (unrelated to this feedback cycle). I was essentially asking her for advice on how to avoid it, and she looked at me, a very curious expression on her face. ‘why do you need to avoid it?’ she said ‘it’s only an emotion. It won’t kill you’ and I had a moment when I really saw both the truth of that, and the inherent wisdom, not just in relation to disappointment.

It really is OK that I have BIG FEELINGS about my writing. It matters to me. A lot. And if the result of this rollercoaster is that my second novel becomes something I am as proud of as my first, then it’s worth it. At some point next week I will be back at my desk making changes, and moving the story forward. I can’t force that to happen, but I know it will.