I could deal with editing if it weren’t for plot holes, really I could. If all I had to do was rearrange sentences and remember that “dining” is not spelled “dinning” and “disembrace” is not a word, it would be easy. This story is so close to being finished, and yet there is just one gaping plot hole in the middle of it, sucking all reality away from the book like a black hole devouring matter.
I never have too much trouble with plot holes since there’s usually an imaginative way to invent a concept or character that negates whatever contradiction existed in the text. Not with historical fiction. I swore off historical fiction last summer once I finished Common Law, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have a whole mess of it still to edit. Anachronisms are the worst thing in the world, and they are everywhere. They say “write what you know” but guess what? I don’t know diddly about 1835. I hardly know anything about 2013. I’m not paying attention. That’s why I like futuristic science-fiction. You just invent whatever history and creations you need, and the fact checkers can’t do a blasted thing about it.
The real kicker is this isn’t even historical fiction. It takes place in modern day Iowa, it just has to do with a really old farmhouse and long-dead pioneer family. I feel my inner editor screaming at my writer self: YOU HAD ONE JOB. Yet, the architecture of the house, which is so integral to the plot, is totally unrealistic for a farm house built in 1835. I’m probably going to do a little bit of everything to clean this up. We will smoosh dates forward, rearrange the house as best we can, and then worry about why I keep saying “we” when I mean “I.”
Once I get this edited, I’ll let you know what “this” is. Just let me tidy it up a bit first, then I’ll let you in on the big secret and fantastic news!