And so it came to be that Replacements was pushed into Final Draft status, and all the remains is the formatting and the cover, and the author saw that it was good, and relaxed.
Or something like that. Sounds a lot more complicated than it was, but the reality is far more boring than the truth.
With only a couple of chapters left I figured I better get to editing, ’cause chapters don’t edit themselves, as much as writers wish they would. I’d already edited nine chapters–two of which were brand new–and I was hovering about the sixteen thousand word limit for a couple of days. I did not want to go over seventeen thousand five hundred words, because then I was on novella territory, and if I got up about eighteen thousand, then I might as well have gone twenty thousand words, because . . . that’s how I roll.
So I edited. I knew Chapter Ten was about twelve hundred words, so not a problem, I’d burn through it. What I had forgotten was that Chapter Eleven, the last chapter, was almost two thousand words–hey, though, these things happen. Besides, I’d done the same thing the night before, so why get serious?
As it was, the last two chapters had been well written, so editing was not a chore. I did one, then the other, then saved, then sighed . . . and commended myself for a job well done. For Replacements is the first ready-to-publish story I’d done in over a year. There’s been a lot of writing, but almost no publishing. Once I have a cover, Replacements is going up to the big Kindle Store in the Internet, and maybe this strange little tale will get noticed–
I say strange little tale because it is. There’s sex and some BDSM, but not so much that it’s going to trip the erotica wires. There’s romance, but not that kind of romance. There’s drama galore, but if I had to pin this sucker down, I’d say it’s science fiction, because it deals with things that one normally wouldn’t find in real life.
This is something I find myself doing: I write in genres that actually contain so many other elements. I’m a child of the New Wave of Science Fiction, and that could get out there in terms of what one might read. (Check out “Riders of the Purple Wage” by Philip Jose Farmer is you want a great example.) There might be robots, and murder, and sex, and they might all be together in the same story: that’s what I used to read, and that’s what I tend to write.
The door is closed on Replacements. It is, as they say, what it is, and I own it. That’s one thing I do with my stories: if I finish them, they’re mine. If I don’t finish them, then they were never meant to see the light of day. I’ve had that happen a few times, but only once in the last two years.
The story is ready, the song is over. All I need is a cover–
Seems like the story of my life of late.