The Editing Process

  I think editing is probably one of the best/worst parts of writing anything. The best because I can go through and add new ideas that come later or delete old ideas taht weren't as good as I first thought they were. The worst because it takes forever and some of your changes can be really mnor. Here's the process I went through to write a short story about having John Green (author of The Fault in Our Stars) inside my head.

Final Draft:

The headache pounds throughout my head. He pushes against my brain, weaving his way into the front of my thoughts. John Green, yes the John Green, the tear jerker, heart-breaker John Green, is inside my head. And the first thing I hear from him is “NERDFIGHTERS!”

“What?” I question him. Every time he comes into my thoughts, I feel his energy seeping into me.

I can hear the smirk in his voice as he speaks, “What’s the great plan for today?”

I roll my eyes, “There isn’t one John. I’ve got homework and I don’t really consider that to be great. And unless you know how to do trig functions, I’d really appreciate it if you went away.”

He is silent for a moment, “Pull out the assignment and I’ll help.” Now one thing you’ve got to understand about John Green, he is a genius. Yes, Yes I am. Stay out of this John, I’m telling the story. Okay, sorry.  Like I was saying, John Green is a genius; you’d know this if you’ve read any of his books. AWW, I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me. John…. Right, sorry.  But he gets distracted, like VERY distracted. I can feel him looking around the room, taking in the pictures of Paris and New York, taking in the books scattered randomly across the floor.

“Why do you stay here?” he asks.

I shrug, “What’s wrong with here?”

“There’s nothing wrong with it. But don’t you want to see the world?”  

“There are just bigger things on my mind right now then seeing the world.”

“That’s not true. The world is literally bigger than your problems. Your problems have no physical mass so there for the world weighs like ten billion times more than your problems.”

“Okay smarty pants; don’t go using science on me. I’m trying to work on pre-calc.”

But with John Green inside your head it’s hard to focus on anything. He’s got scenes and scenes from different books, published and unpublished, that scroll through his head like a movie. The car scene from The Fault in Our Stars, the crash from Looking for Alaska, and so many other scenes that I couldn’t identify but deeply wanted to know what story went with them. John’s mind was like a constant motion picture from at least eight different books. The cutting was rough, the picture not crystal clear, but John knew these scenes and knew how to tell them.

Sometimes it still caught me off guard; John Green was inside my head. His brilliant mind, filled with quotes that could change the world, was inside of my completely average teenage mind. I think some people would kill to have John Green inside their heads. He was a brilliant writer and a pure genius. But sometimes his excitement and energy overwhelmes me. I don’t want to run off and explore the dark side of me or anything like that. But ever since I met John, I crave adventure and inspiration and something bigger than just the small life I’ve been living.  

John Green gave me this desire I didn’t know I had, to want to see something other than the snowcapped mountains of Bountiful, Utah. He made me want to see the volcanoes of El Salvador, the Eiffel Tower of Paris and the skyline of New York. He made me want to explore the world, the places of the world that buzzed with excitement and screamed about adventure. There was something so great about the “Great Unknown” and I didn’t want to have to wait till I was dead to find it.

There is so much more to see than just my little bubble. When the time comes and I pop my bubble, it would be a chance to learn so much and see so much and some of it I wouldn’t be able to unsee. The world was filled with many beautiful and wonderful things, but for every beautiful thing there was one thing that was the opposite. It was dark and dreary and could shatter me into a thousand tiny pieces. 

                “The World is a big place,” John says, “and you’ll see things that you wish you’d never seen before, but there will be things that make you breathless.  Those beautiful things are what make this all worth it. You won’t, and shouldn’t, be able to push the horrible things from your mind because those are what make the wonderful things so wonderful.”

                “Great John,” I mumbled, “now I lost track of where I was in the trig problem.”

                There was silence. Sometimes I wonder if I actually have John Green inside my head. Or had I come to know him so well through his books that I just thought he was there? I think parts of writers stick with us, even after we’ve closed their books. That’s what makes a brilliant writer; parts of them will stay with us after we’ve read their books. They put a part of their soul into this book and now I’ve come to know them through this book. Maybe I had just read so much from John that I felt as if part of him was inside of me. When really, I had no more of him than anyone else who had read his works.

 

Third Draft:

 

The headache pounds throughout my head. He pushes against my brain, weaving his way into the front of my thoughts. John Green, yes the John Green, the tear jerker, heart-breaker John Green, is inside my head. And the first thing I hear from him is “NERDFIGHTERS!”

“What?” I question him. Every time he comes into my thoughts, I feel his energy seeping into me.

I can hear the smirk in his voice as he speaks, “What’s the great plan for today?”

I roll my eyes, “There isn’t one John. I’ve got homework and I don’t really consider that to be great. And unless you know how to do trig functions, I’d really appreciate it if you went away.”

He is silent for a moment, “Pull out the assignment and I’ll help.” Now one thing you’ve got to understand about John Green, he is a genius. Yes, Yes I am. Stay out of this John, I’m telling the story. Okay, sorry.  Like I was saying, John Green is a genius; you’d know this if you’ve read any of his books. AWW, I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me. John…. Right, sorry.  But he gets distracted, like VERY distracted. I can feel him looking around the room, taking in the pictures of Paris and New York, taking in the books scattered randomly across the floor.

“Why do you stay here?” he asks.

I shrug, “What’s wrong with here?”

“There’s nothing wrong with it. But don’t you want to see the world?”  

“There are just bigger things on my mind right now then seeing the world.”

“That’s not true. The world is literally bigger than your problems. Your problems have no physical mass so there for the world weighs like ten billion times more than your problems.”

“Okay smarty pants; don’t go using science on me. I’m trying to work on pre-calc.”

But with John Green inside your head it’s hard to focus on anything. He’s got scenes and scenes from different books, published and unpublished, that scroll through his head like a movie. John’s mind was like a constant motion picture from at least eight different books. The cutting was rough, the picture not crystal clear, but John knew these scenes and knew how to tell them.

I don’t want to run off and explore the dark side of me or anything like that. But ever since I met John, I crave adventure and inspiration and something bigger than just the small life I’ve been living.  

                “The World is a big place,” John says, “and you’ll see things that you wish you’d never seen before, but there will be things that make you breathless.  Those beautiful things are what make this all worth it. You won’t, and shouldn’t, be able to push the horrible things from your mind because those are what make the wonderful things so wonderful.”

                “Great John,” I mumbled, “now I lost track of where I was in the trig problem.”

                There was silence. Sometimes I wonder if I actually have John Green inside my head. Or had I come to know him so well through his books that I just thought he was there? I think parts of writers stick with us, even after we’ve closed their books. That’s what makes a brilliant writer; parts of them will stay with us after we’ve read their books. They put a part of their soul into this book and now I’ve come to know them through this book. Maybe I had just read so much from John that I felt as if part of him was inside of me. When really, I had no more of him than anyone else who had read his works.

Second Draft:

The headache pounds throughout my head. He pushes against my brain, weaving his way into the front of my thoughts. John Green, yes the John Green, the tear jerker, heart-breaker John Green, is inside my head. And the first thing I hear from him is “NERDFIGHTERS!”

“What?” I question him. Every time he comes into my thoughts, I feel his energy seeping into me.

I can hear the smirk on his lips as he speaks, “What’s the great plan for today?”

I roll my eyes, “There isn’t one John. I’ve got homework and I don’t really consider that to be great. And unless you know how to do trig functions, I’d really appreciate it if you went away.”

He is silent for a moment, “Pull out the assignment and I’ll help.” Now one thing you’ve got to understand about John Green, he is a genius. But he gets distracted, like VERY distracted. I can feel him looking around the room, taking in the pictures of Paris and New York, taking in the books scattered randomly across the floor.

“Why do you stay here?” he asks.

I shrug, “What’s wrong with here?”

“There’s nothing wrong with it. But don’t you want to see the world?”  

“There are just bigger things on my mind right now then seeing the world.”

“That’s not true. The world is literally bigger than your problems. Your problems have no physical mass so there for the world weighs like ten billion times more than your problems.”

“Okay smarty pants; don’t go using science on me. I’m trying to work on pre-calc.”

But with John Green inside your head it’s hard to focus on anything. He’s got scenes and scenes from different books, published and unpublished, that scroll through his head like a movie. The car scene from The Fault in Our Stars, the crash from Looking for Alaska, and so many other scenes that I couldn’t identify but deeply wanted to know what story went with them. John’s mind was like a constant motion picture from at least eight different books. The cutting was rough, the picture not crystal clear, but John knew these scenes and knew how to tell them.

I don’t want to run off and explore the dark side of me or anything like that. But ever since I met John, I crave adventure and inspiration and something bigger than just the small life I’ve been living.  

                “The World is a big place,” John says, “and you’ll see things that you wish you’d never seen before, but there will be things that make you breathless.  Those beautiful things are what make this all worth it. You won’t, and shouldn’t, be able to push the horrible things from your mind because those are what make the wonderful things so wonderful.”

                “Great John,” I mumbled, “now I lost track of where I was in the trig problem.”

                There was silence. Sometimes I wonder if I actually have John Green inside my head. Or had I come to know him so well through his books that I just thought he was there? I think parts of writers stick with us, even after we’ve closed their books. That’s what makes a brilliant writer; parts of them will stay with us after we’ve read their books. They put a part of their soul into this book and now I’ve come to know them through this book. Maybe I had just read so much from John that I felt as if part of him was inside of me. When really, I had no more of him than anyone else who had read his works.

First Draft:

The headache pounds throughout my head. He pushes against my brain, weaving his way into the front of my thoughts. John Green was inside my head.  Every time he comes into my thoughts, I feel his energy seeping into me.

I can hear the smirk on his lips as he speaks, “What’s the great plan for today?”

I roll my eyes, “There isn’t one John. I’ve got homework and I don’t really consider that to be great. And unless you know how to do trig functions, I’d really appreciate it if you went away.”

But with John Green inside your head it’s hard to focus on anything. He’s got scenes and scenes from different books, published and unpublished, that scroll through his head like a movie. The car scene from The Fault in Our Stars, the crash from Looking for Alaska, and so many other scenes that I couldn’t identify but deeply wanted to know what story went with them. John’s mind was like a constant motion picture from at least eight different books. The cutting was rough, the picture not crystal clear, but John knew these scenes and knew how to tell them.

I don’t want to run off and explore the dark side of me or anything like that. But ever since I met John, I crave adventure and inspiration and something bigger than just the small life I’ve been living.  

                “The World is a big place,” John says, “and you’ll see things that you wish you’d never seen before, but there will be things that make you breathless.  Those beautiful things are what make this all worth it. You won’t, and shouldn’t, be able to push the horrible things from your mind because those are what make the wonderful things so wonderful.”

                “Great John,” I mumbled, “now I lost track of where I was in the trig problem.”

                There was silence. Sometimes I wonder if I actually have John Green inside my head. Or had I come to know him so well through his books that I just thought he was there? I think parts of writers stick with us, even after we’ve closed their books. That’s what makes a brilliant writer; parts of them will stay with us after we’ve read their books. They put a part of their soul into this book and now I’ve come to know them through this book. Maybe I had just read so much from John that I felt as if part of him was inside of me. When really, I had no more of him than anyone else who had read his works.

Rought Draft:

“The World is a big place,” John says, “and you’ll see things that you wish you’d never seen before, but there will be things that make you breathless.  Those beautiful things are what make this all worth it. You won’t, and shouldn’t, be able to push the horrible things from your mind because those are what make the wonderful things so wonderful.”

                “Great John,” I mumbled, “now I lost track of where I was in the trig problem.”

                There was silence. Sometimes I wonder if I actually have John Green inside my head. Or had I come to know him so well through his books that I just thought he was there? I think parts of writers stick with us, even after we’ve closed their books. That’s what makes a brilliant writer; parts of them will stay with us after we’ve read their books. They put a part of their soul into this book and now I’ve come to know them through this book. Maybe I had just read so much from John that I felt as if part of him was inside of me. When really, I had no more of him than anyone else who had read his works.

Usually when I edit my wrok I condence the material but with this one I just kept adding more stuff to it.  Writing is weird like that. There aren't any rules to what you can and cannot do. If you haven't read any of John Green's books I would HIGHLY reccomend you do. What's editing like for you guys? Do you like it? Hate it? Love it? Really could care less about it? Let me know what you think in the comments below!