It’s only taken a couple of years, but I finally, FINALLY, convinced one of my friends to beta read my first novel. She read it in a night (which, I mean, I don’t write super in-depth stuff, no surprise), and she kept on texting me about how much she loved it, how great it was (not to brag or anything).
And I trust her. She’s one of my best friends, and I really trust her.
This morning, she sent me her notes. I read them first thing when I woke up. And I felt… angry.
- Your main character needs some more obvious flaws.
She has flaws! Are you not reading? Her shyness? Her anxiety? ARE YOU NOT READING?
- This part makes no sense.
Well, of course it makes sense! You read it in a night. Maybe you read it too fast.
My initial instinct was to be angry with her. Shouldn’t she think my story is perfect?
No. Of course not. And after a few deep breaths (and maybe a mile of running at the gym), I started thinking sensibly. She told me how much she liked it. Her notes were an attempt to make it better. So that when and if I publish it. It’s a GOOD book.
I might not use all of her ideas. But some? Some make sense. And maybe I am upset that my book isn’t perfect, but. I’m coming around. I can fix it.
Of course, that means revisions. (Ugh)
And what am I going to do when I publish it and more reviews start streaming in from anonymous strangers?
