Something momentous happened in my world this week: I have sent my manuscript to an editor. This will probably feel natural to some of you who have experienced this many times before, but for me, it’s a huge shock.
I never really used a script editor for my film projects—there was usually a producer, an exec, or a developmental producer—but I’ve never picked someone from a list on the internet to oversee something as important and time-consuming as a novel.
The sensation is head-spinning, like I’ve just left my young daughter with a stranger I met at a red light—even if that stranger looks sympathetic, competent (and expensive).
Many thoughts are currently spiraling in my head. The first is that I’m likely to need a full rewrite. Well, that’s what I’m expecting to hear from my editor anyway. The second is how sustainable this system is going to be in the long run, as it’s quite pricey. This makes me slightly question my plan to self-publish. It’s becoming such an investment in time and money that perhaps I should query at the end of the process?
All these questions are new to me, and it’s both exciting and a little scary. Funnily enough, I found out that my editor is on Substack only after hiring them. It didn’t occur to me to research this beforehand. I will spare them the pressure of seeing that I’m blogging about the process though. This will just be between you and me.
I just hope the process will be smooth and relatively painless. That even if a full rewrite is needed (likely), there will be enough concrete elements in the feedback so that I know where to start.
These insecurities are probably normal. It’s all going to be about navigating them and getting the best material out of the process. Anyway, for now, I have a couple of months to wait until I get the edit letter, so I need to learn patience.
I think this will be a good opportunity for me to take care of my Substack, which I’ll freely admit I have somewhat neglected over the past few months. I was so taken by the revision process, putting so many hours into the manuscript, that I had no energy left for blogging. This has led to losing a fair amount of paid subscribers—sorry, guys, that's my bad—but it has also made me reflect on substack and blogging in general.
It’s almost been a year since I joined Substack. Overall, the experience has been enjoyable and rather successful, but why did I have this slump in inspiration?
I think it was more than just because of my novel. This feels like a crossroad of sorts. For my first year blogging, I was really quite regular and disciplined with the posting schedule. I would post almost every week, write notes almost daily, but when I reached my temporary goal of becoming a ‘bestseller’ on substack, I sort of felt like I needed a new level of motivation.
What is it all about? Is it about growing to as many subscribers as possible? Making money? Creating a newsletter as an author?
I’ve now had time to reflect on what I want from Substack in the future, and I’m done chasing growth targets and treating it like a second job. I’m truly grateful and still somewhat amazed at the support I’ve found on the platform, but moving forward, I want to do things wrong. I want my posts to be too long or too short, to have no structure but what instinctively flows through my fingers. I want to disregard all the techniques and schedules and just find something more essential. In other words, I want to spend less time analyzing and more time simply being myself in an intimate way.
It doesn’t mean I wasn’t sincere before, but I’d like to refocus on quality over quantity. That will be my challenge for year two on Substack. This means posting a bit less. Posting without structure or afterthought. Choosing not to do the ‘right things’ and seeing how it goes.
I’m sure it will slow my growth down, but my goal is to connect my inner self to you guys, not just to have more of you.
This starts today with this rambling. It doesn’t have much purpose other than to share the turmoil of emotions I’ve been through recently—my fears and my hope to write a good novel by the end of a process which terrifies me.
This is a key year for me, a crossroads. I’ve spent a lot of time and energy on these projects. I’d like to find a better balance between work and mental health moving forward, as it’s not been easy. I tend to lose myself in what I do, to be so extreme that it becomes overwhelming.
Moving forward, I yearn to trust the process better. To stop caring so much about what people think and to focus more on the folks that already care, rather than bringing in new ones.
It’s been a while. I’ve missed you guys, but I’m back. It will be a slightly different me. Maybe I’ll let more of my anxieties and insecurities show, and maybe I’ll keep losing subscribers in the process, but I hope it will bring this blog to even deeper areas of intimacy.
What about you, dear reader? Have you ever worked with an editor? Are you an editor? How was your first time? Did you ever feel substack burnout and find yourself at a crossroad? I would love to hear your thoughts on it.
Remy x
My European mother once said, "There is no such thing as enough in America."
Look, I don’t want to brag, but here’s an anecdote that could be useful for you: after the editing of my latest (non-fiction) book was done, I asked the editor what she thought I could do better next time. She answered: „You know, this is a question only good writers ask. There’s nothing I can tell that you don’t already feel deep inside you.“ I’m telling this because I think your „anxieties and insecurities“ already show on your Substack and that your gut will tell you what matters, and the editor (if it’s a good one) will do little more than give some technical/formal advice plus gently point you to what you already know deep down.