a feint taint
I'm editing Book 2 at the moment. I'm making hard choices. Kill your darlings, they say. Sometimes that is easier said than done. Take, 'A feint taint of woodsmoke.' It's writerly rubbish and trying too hard. Yet it survived several passes of my red pen, although each time I read it it snagged at me and caused me to pause for a fraction on the road past, like black ice might cause a tyre to lose traction. I always knew it was wrong and its days were always numbered. Eventually I returned to it and scored it through. Gone. Other edits are much harder. One sentence I really liked that had come to me in a bright moment, was a big sacrifice. It's wrongness remained hidden for a long while and even when I realised that I fought to keep it, would not admit it didn't work. I admired it, loved it even but it didn't belong in this story so out came the red pen again. It died hard. Editing can be a chore, can be fun, can be painful in equal measures but if y
