What We're Writing Week: Julia Edits

JULIA SPENCER-FLEMING: So I do have some cool news to make up for talking about editing, which is, frankly, kind of dull. I have a publication date for AT MIDNIGHT COMES THE CRY: November 25, 2025. 

This tickles me enormously, because the novel starts at almost that date, on the day of the Greenwich Lighted Tractor Parade, which is the Saturday before Thanksgiving. (The year I first say this wonderful event, it was on the 23rd. PS, it's not that Greenwich.) The 25th will be two days before Thanksgiving next year, which means you can all rush out and buy it during Small Business Saturday.

That is, of course, if I finish the edits. I have a combination: some in-depth changes that need a lot of work and some extremely small stuff. Examples of the latter:

9. the tumult was split...tumult? seems a bit fancy

51. bottom of the page. adult full grown should be full grown adult, yes?

106. You're missing the chapter number - 9

141. Absolutely not...who is talking?

And here's an example of the deeper stuff: I've been dealing with my female protagonist's alcohol/ pill addiction for three books now. I was sick to death of it, frankly, but I didn't know how to move on in a realistic way. My brilliant editor said, "It's okay to have her healing and going forward offscreen!" I never would have thought of that on my own. So now, instead of a bunch of scenes about her wanting to pop a painkiller - all of which seemed weirdly inserted into the real story - I have this conversation: 

“How are you doing?” St. Laurent’s voice changed, became more, well, pastoral. She recognized it because she used the same tone herself.

“With sobriety, you mean?” Clare sighed. “Not going to lie. It’s hard. I seriously backslid around the time my husband quit his job and the police force was on the chopping block. So much pain and fear and I couldn’t…” she didn’t know how to complete the sentence.

“You want to help everyone, and when you can’t, you don’t know how to deal with it.” St. Laurent tugged on his knit toque. “I’ve been there myself, more than once. What got you out of it?”

“The next morning, the baby was fussy, so I brought him into bed with us.” She smiled at the memory. “I looked at him and my husband, all drowsy together, and I thought, I can have this, or I can have those pain pills hidden in my glove compartment.” She shrugged. “I walked to the car in my PJs and slippers, flushed the pills down the toilet and went to my first AA meeting that night.” She ducked her head. “I get my thirty day chip this Wednesday.”

 

Such a relief! Dear readers, what do you want to know about editing? And aren't you glad Clare is sober now?