Revision Letter Blues

Got a revision letter on Crash Test today from an editor friend (who I would dearly love to become my editor editor). It's not bad. Not great, but not bad. Short version: Love the last 150 pages. First 200 slow. Fix 'em.

Aurrrgh!! (or whatever combination of letters properly conveys both happiness and outright vexation)

Hey, it's better than a "Thanks, but this sucks, don't send it again" rejection letter, or even worse, the "Dear Author" form rejection. This is two pages of here's-what-I-think-you-need-to-change-so-it has-a-Snowball's-chance-of-my-buying-it detail. Good stuff, but frustrating. This editor and I have a good relationship, so I can probably call and talk more specifically about what she really wants me to do, but I feel so deflated right now. I'll probably go make pasta or something, then take another look.

Now, of course, I have a new wrinkle in the not-quite-right universe: an agent. This will be the first What should we do about this? fax of our author-agent relationship. Kind of exciting, if you think about it. I've already tweaked the manuscript for Paige, so maybe she and editor need to hash out some common ground (I had the editor relationship established long before I got the agent, and you know how the wheels of publishing turn. Sloooooooooooooooooowly.).

Upshot? This could mean more rewriting. Or not. I think I'll let them duke it out, then ooze in when the dust settles. Or some other editor says "Great!" and offers boodles of cash for it without revisions. Yeah. That's the ticket.