One of the more enjoyably frustrating parts of the authoring process is working with a developmental editor: a very kind person who clearly hates everything about you and wants nothing more than to take your money in exchange for making you miserable…or at least that’s what you might think when reading through the feedback.
Editing is a dangerous business. Ann Bogart describes choice-making as inherently violent. Down to the smallest decision, each winnows all others from the herd of possibilities. After sitting with my editor’s savage recommendations, I was able to wrap my hands around a much stronger story ; however, that doesn’t make up for how delighted I was by this particular little chapter…which does not appear in the final edit.
Have you ever experienced how cutting feedback can forge a stronger story? How do harsh edits and unexpected rejections shape the narrative we eventually embrace?
Meet Rose Crantz, a teenager on the precipice that determines what direction her life will take who is finding herself with no idea where the path will lead. She is a minor character in the larger world of the Conglomerate, my imaginary dystopia where the government is run like a business…which used to feel far-fetched.
West Franklin Upper School
At fifteen years old, Rose Crantz was a shy, understated girl. She had bushy, brassy hair that didn’t behave the way it was meant to do, and her front teeth had the seeming audacity to grow too large for her mouth. Her arms were long and her breasts were nowhere to be found despite routine attempts to coax them forward while in the shower.
The newest affliction, however, was the worst one of all. She was horrified only the day before to discover that a large yellow pimple had risen on the tip of her nose. Her mother didn’t understand when she tried to explain she was clearly suffering from some sort of genetic mutation. All her mother said was, “Rosie, you are the prettiest girl in all of Suburban Franklin.”
This response made no sense.
She never thought of herself as ugly, Rose only hoped her face and limbs would sort themselves out and was only looking for confirmation that would be the case. It seemed to her that everything should end up looking like it belonged together, and hoped her body would get the message from her mind eventually.
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