Had the last of three phone calls with number six of The Eight. Long distance discussions regarding written materials are tricky, and we managed, though it required more time than other feedback session. Fortunately my cell provider offers a rollover plan, and the balance stood at 1400 minutes, at least before this week. Thank you, Cingular.

Based on number six’s encouragement, I decided to charge ahead without waiting for number seven. Before explaining that decision, consider the chronology of this novel.

January 7, 2004
Work on a primitive draft begins.

October 10, 2004.
After several false starts, decide that this time, no matter what, I’m writing thirty decent pages. If I fail, I’ll write another type of story. Or drink professionally again.

November 1, 2004.
Finish a solid draft. Manuscript stands at 353 pages.

November 7, 2005.
A week of revisions, a day of printing. Distribute manuscripts to the Eight ( pre-submit readers )

November 25, 2005
Numbers one and two of the Eight finish. Feedback discussions held. Numbers three, four and five follow in December.

Late December 2005.
Bowing to work pressure, number seven recuses self. Explanation understood by both sides.

January 21, 2006.
Last feedback discussion with number six.

The chronology makes me ponder the actual age of the project. On a timeline basis, the novel’s lifespan stands at twenty-four months. However, I consider it thirteen months old, because the real lifting happened between October 2004 and November 2005, ending with a two and change month lull while I collected reader feedback. Granted, waiting is part of the process — by some accounts, the most critical piece — but if my ass isn’t in a chair writing, it doesn’t feel like work.

And now to what may seem a rash decision: charging into the revisions without waiting for the last reader. Why reverse my position after waiting so long? Because it’s not a reversal. Though dubbed The Eight, I expected a few might never reach the finish line. Life happens, and most people have very little spare time for reading, especially during the holidays. When fate throws a curve, adapt. The surprise was not that one dropped out, and another remains at large, but that so many finished so quickly. To me, that two readers finished in less than three weeks is a very positive sign.

Starting Monday, I’ll review the master copy that has the critical suggestions from all readers, from page one, to the end. My plan of attack from that point:

1) Consolidate the feedback into a spreadsheet.
2) Using triage logic, rank the list into areas needing the most attention, and areas that are less important, a la Sol Stein. He’s edited more mega-sellers than most, and the tactic is straight out of his playbook. He ruled before spreadsheets were born, but the idea is the same.
3) Implment the fixes, most important first.
4) Follow step three, addressing each issue until completion.

How long might this process take? By mid-week, I’ll have an idea.

A second phone call with number six of The Eight is scheduled tonight; the first was Tuesday. It’s odd working through the novel now. A lot of time has passed since finishing the draft. I remember the plot points clearly, the good parts, the parts I liked, but have no recollection of writing the clunkers. They were always there. Sentences that either go nowhere or fall like a brick. Even with all the rewriting in place, I missed them, so my conclusion is that the momentum of a project blocks the mind from noticing a certain type of flub in the moment. Otherwise, the ego is too battered.

The more interesting part, is that with distance, comes perspective. For instance, in one scene, a character was defined more by the questions he was asked, than his actual answers. An unintentional move, certainly. The scene works, and will hit the streets largely intact, but now I view both characters in a different way.