Worth the Wait

I'm fascinated by the creative process of other artists, which is why I'm always so intent on documenting mine. I mention often that I'm editing the third book in my Bloodline series, Broken, for publication. It's important to note that "editing" should not imply checking for misspelled words, but more appropriately, rewriting a 70,000-word novel one paragraph at a time while adding 20,000 words to the story. (I did this with Legends for its second edition—so that'll be a little bit different book for those of you who've read it before.)

Broken has gone through many drafts, and has had several major rewrites to become the book it is today. But that book is cohesive, and delicious, and will beg the reader to devour every page. At least, that's my hope as the storyteller. As far as I'm concerned, there is no more satisfying reward than to have someone say of my book: "I couldn't put it down."

At present, I'm dealing with a paragraph broken into four parts, my throat swollen and scratchy from reading jagged sentences aloud again and again, trying to make sense of how to piece them together. For writing isn't just about these particular sentences, this particular paragraph, this page, or this chapter—it's about one of them singularly and all of them together. It's simultaneously taking every aspect of the story into consideration at any place in the text in order to create the most cohesive flow possible. So, no pressure.

Broken has been a lot of work, but it's worth the wait. I think we'll both agree soon enough.



Conor Oberst
Night at Lake Unknown