Seeing the Potential

This is going to be heavy handed and symbolic, so apologies in advance for that. But truthfully, right now, my husband and I are in the process of buying our first real grown up house.

It’s one of those things that I look at with equal parts excitement and fear. Because there are a lot of things about it that are wonderful. (I have included a picture of the view and kitchen for an example of the wonderful) But there are things about it that are disastrous (see the green 70s wallpaper).

We did our inspection today and what we got was…well, it was a lot like a revision letter for the house. No major structural damage, nothing beyond fixing. But there are some problems that will have to be addressed before the bank will loan on it. From missing steps off the back door, to fallen rain gutters and some bathroom fixtures that are leaking. Then there are the cosmetic issues. They aren’t the worst, but they represent a lot of work.

If the bad outweighed the good, the house probably wouldn’t be worth saving. Even if we could somehow buy it with cash and bypass the banks, if the house was filled with termites and the structure was caving in on itself, it wouldn’t be worth it in the end. At the same time though, even though there’s a lot of good as it is, we can’t move into it RIGHT NOW, either.

It needs revising. But the house revisions aren’t really a bad thing. We have the chance to take something good and make it awesome. The potential is there, but it will take some work to get it there.

You’re probably nine steps ahead of where I’m going with this, but me being me, I couldn’t help but apply these thoughts I was having about the house to my writing.

Often, well, every time in some capacity or another, my editor returns my MS to me with a list of improvements I could make to have it be in top condition. I’ve come to the conclusion at this point that it does no good to fear the revisions, or to even try to avoid them. (I’ve only written a ‘turn key’ MS once. 😉 )

The thing with looking at houses is, it’s easy to see them with rose colored glasses. To miss all the work that needs to be done because you’re too close to it. It’s like MSs that way. 😉 But just because work needs to be done, that doesn’t mean you walk away.

It also doesn’t mean you turn to the inspector and say THIS IS OUTRAGEOUS, SIR! WHAT DO YOU MEAN THERE IS NO TRIM ON ANY OF THE DOORS? CLEARLY THERE IS TRIM! (um…there isn’t.)

There’s a point where emotion has to be somewhat separated from the work, or the house. I say somewhat, because you have to care enough to put the work in.

If an editor is giving you revisions, even a rejection with revisions or tips for future MSs, it means they saw good in there. Enough good that they took the time to tell you what you could do differently. That’s the kind of thing you don’t just brush off. Your house is worth fixing. 😉 And it’s better to fix it than it is to move in to a jacked up place with fallen rain gutters.

In the end, it’s the MSs that made me work hardest that I’m most proud of. It’s the ones that I had to labor over, make mistakes with, curse at and cry on, that I’m the most happy with.

There’s a lot of work ahead for us with the house. I’m hoping that, in the end, it follows the MS principle and becomes something even more valuable because of the fact that WE did the work. That we fought to make it the best it could be.

Don’t be afraid to revise. Don’t look at revisions given to you by an editor and feel insulted. Instead, roll up your sleeves and bring that MS up to its full potential. 🙂