Amazon confirms its April 1, 2010 publication date.
But really I'm posting this so you can admire the new look to this blog.
It was time for a little redecorating around here!
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
We Have A Cover!
Because I don't know how to attach a PDF (or what a PDF is for that matter) to my blog, I printed the cover on my dandy printer and attached it with needles (I couldn't find any pins) to my green chair and took photographs of it.
I know how to attach photographs, with and without needles.
The odds are when the book is published, the cover may look a little, oh I don't know, slicker, but in the meantime, I'm thrilled and can't wait to show it off.
So here's the cover for This World We Live In (by New York Times Best Selling Author of Life As We Knew It-Moi)!
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
A Brand New Email Address
I'm a firm believer that one cannot have too many email addresses, so I set one up just for the thirdmoonbook blog.
I've been keeping this a comment free zone, but if there's something you really want to tell me, now you have an address to send it to: susanbpfeffer@aol.com
I also set up a new email account over at my regular blog, because the previous email account was proving increasingly cranky.
The only one around here allowed to be cranky is me!
I've been keeping this a comment free zone, but if there's something you really want to tell me, now you have an address to send it to: susanbpfeffer@aol.com
I also set up a new email account over at my regular blog, because the previous email account was proving increasingly cranky.
The only one around here allowed to be cranky is me!
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
A Scene That Never Would Have Existed If The Editor Hadn't Asked For Rewrites
June 4
I was in my bedroom, trying to decide what would be the absolutely safest place to hide my diaries, when I heard a knock on my door and Alex softly saying, "Miranda?"
Even though I hadn't touched a thing, and my diaries were as hidden as they ever are, I instantly decided I needed to find an even better place for them. That was after I finished jumping at the sound of a strange boy's voice.
"Yeah," I said, which didn't come off quite as friendly as it should have. "I mean, hi Alex. What do you want?"
He stood in the doorway until I gestured for him to come in.
"I hope I'm not bothering you," he said. "I was wondering if you might have some clothes Julie could borrow. Just for the time we're here."
"Oh, sure," I said. "Julie's smaller than I am, but we can work something out." Syl already has half my wardrobe. Julie could have the other half.
"Thank you," he said. "It'll mean a lot to her."
"Do you want me to ask Matt if you could borrow some of his clothes?" I asked. Why should I be the only naked one in the house.
"That would be great, thank you," Alex said. "It's just for a few days, until Julie's rested up enough."
"There's no rush," I said. "I'll see what I can find."
Alex looked around my room. "You have a lot of books," he said.
"Not that many," I said. "And I've read all of them three times by now."
"I miss reading," he said, taking my copy of Pride And Prejudice off the shelf. "I miss learning useless things. Latin. Calculus."
"I miss friends," I said. "Friends. Family. Food. The 3 Fs." I smiled, but Alex didn't smile back.
"I miss home," he said. "And the feeling you got in a library carrel, like nothing in the world mattered except the book you were reading." He put Pride And Prejudice back on the shelf. "I miss pride. The sin of pride."
"I don't think it's a sin to be proud," I said, looking at my skating trophies. "Not if you've worked to achieve your goal."
Alex shook his head. "You don't understand," he said. "It's different for you. You work to keep your house clean, and you take pride in how it looks. That's not what I mean."
It annoyed me that Alex thought my only accomplishment in life was in the war against ash. "I take pride in lots of things," I said. "Like how my family has come together. How we've fought to keep alive. To keep our hopes alive. I take a lot of pride in that. Do you think that's a sin?"
"No, of course not," Alex said. "But that's not the kind of pride I'm talking about."
"Oh," I said. "You mean like vanity. Being proud because you're good looking or rich."
"That's not it exactly either," Alex said.
"Then what is?" I asked.
He gazed out my window, at the perpetually gray landscape. "All right," he said. "Maybe you'll understand better if I tell you about the coin jar. We had to pay for our school uniforms, so my mother kept a coin jar. Every day we emptied our pockets and whatever change we had went into the jar. One day she caught my father taking out a handful of quarters. He was short on beer money. She went crazy. It was the worst fight I ever saw them have. My mother had ambitions for us. Every penny we saved was important to her." He paused for a moment. "My father picked up the coin jar and threw it across the room. The coins flew all over. My mother got down on her hands and knees to pick up the change, but my brother Carlos shoved me onto the floor. It was my fault, he said. I was the one they were fighting over."
"That must have been awful," I said. Mom and Dad at their worst always let us know we weren't to blame for their problems.
"I vowed I would never feel shame again," Alex said. "But the shame wasn't because my parents fought over me. It was the shame of crawling on the floor, sweeping pennies and nickels into a pile to pay for clothes other kids took for granted. The next day I got a job, started working whenever I could, finally got regular work at a pizza parlor. I paid for my own uniforms after that, and my books too. No more coin jar. My mother found some other way to pay for my sister's uniforms. And I felt proud. Proud I was smart. Proud that people noticed me, respected me. Proud that I was ambitious. Proud that I was too good to end up like my parents. And now I beg for clean clothes for my sister. I beg for every bite of food we eat."
"You don't have to beg here," I said. "We're happy to share."
"No one is happy to share," he said.
Alex looked down then, or I looked up. I don't know how it happened, but we made eye contact, and for a moment, I was drawn into his soul. I could see everything, the depth of his sorrow, his anger, his despair.
I feel sorrow and anger and despair. I don't think there's a person alive who doesn't. I sometimes feel like my sorrow and anger and despair burns inside me like the sun used to burn on a hot July day.
But that was nothing compared to what I sensed in Alex. His sorrow, his anger, his despair was like a thousand suns, like a galaxy of suns. It physically hurt me to look into his eyes, but I couldn't break away. He turned his head first, and then he apologized, or maybe he thanked me. For Alex, I think they're the same thing.
He bolted out of the room, leaving me to stare at my bookstore and think about the sin of pride and the sin of prejudice and all the other sins I'd left behind.
ETA: What Alex no doubt said was "my sisters' uniforms," referring to Bri and Julie. But since Miranda only knows about Julie, she hears it as "my sister's uniforms."
Miranda is very much an unreliable narrator in This World We Live In. She knows only what people tell her, and people don't necessarily tell her all the details.
I was in my bedroom, trying to decide what would be the absolutely safest place to hide my diaries, when I heard a knock on my door and Alex softly saying, "Miranda?"
Even though I hadn't touched a thing, and my diaries were as hidden as they ever are, I instantly decided I needed to find an even better place for them. That was after I finished jumping at the sound of a strange boy's voice.
"Yeah," I said, which didn't come off quite as friendly as it should have. "I mean, hi Alex. What do you want?"
He stood in the doorway until I gestured for him to come in.
"I hope I'm not bothering you," he said. "I was wondering if you might have some clothes Julie could borrow. Just for the time we're here."
"Oh, sure," I said. "Julie's smaller than I am, but we can work something out." Syl already has half my wardrobe. Julie could have the other half.
"Thank you," he said. "It'll mean a lot to her."
"Do you want me to ask Matt if you could borrow some of his clothes?" I asked. Why should I be the only naked one in the house.
"That would be great, thank you," Alex said. "It's just for a few days, until Julie's rested up enough."
"There's no rush," I said. "I'll see what I can find."
Alex looked around my room. "You have a lot of books," he said.
"Not that many," I said. "And I've read all of them three times by now."
"I miss reading," he said, taking my copy of Pride And Prejudice off the shelf. "I miss learning useless things. Latin. Calculus."
"I miss friends," I said. "Friends. Family. Food. The 3 Fs." I smiled, but Alex didn't smile back.
"I miss home," he said. "And the feeling you got in a library carrel, like nothing in the world mattered except the book you were reading." He put Pride And Prejudice back on the shelf. "I miss pride. The sin of pride."
"I don't think it's a sin to be proud," I said, looking at my skating trophies. "Not if you've worked to achieve your goal."
Alex shook his head. "You don't understand," he said. "It's different for you. You work to keep your house clean, and you take pride in how it looks. That's not what I mean."
It annoyed me that Alex thought my only accomplishment in life was in the war against ash. "I take pride in lots of things," I said. "Like how my family has come together. How we've fought to keep alive. To keep our hopes alive. I take a lot of pride in that. Do you think that's a sin?"
"No, of course not," Alex said. "But that's not the kind of pride I'm talking about."
"Oh," I said. "You mean like vanity. Being proud because you're good looking or rich."
"That's not it exactly either," Alex said.
"Then what is?" I asked.
He gazed out my window, at the perpetually gray landscape. "All right," he said. "Maybe you'll understand better if I tell you about the coin jar. We had to pay for our school uniforms, so my mother kept a coin jar. Every day we emptied our pockets and whatever change we had went into the jar. One day she caught my father taking out a handful of quarters. He was short on beer money. She went crazy. It was the worst fight I ever saw them have. My mother had ambitions for us. Every penny we saved was important to her." He paused for a moment. "My father picked up the coin jar and threw it across the room. The coins flew all over. My mother got down on her hands and knees to pick up the change, but my brother Carlos shoved me onto the floor. It was my fault, he said. I was the one they were fighting over."
"That must have been awful," I said. Mom and Dad at their worst always let us know we weren't to blame for their problems.
"I vowed I would never feel shame again," Alex said. "But the shame wasn't because my parents fought over me. It was the shame of crawling on the floor, sweeping pennies and nickels into a pile to pay for clothes other kids took for granted. The next day I got a job, started working whenever I could, finally got regular work at a pizza parlor. I paid for my own uniforms after that, and my books too. No more coin jar. My mother found some other way to pay for my sister's uniforms. And I felt proud. Proud I was smart. Proud that people noticed me, respected me. Proud that I was ambitious. Proud that I was too good to end up like my parents. And now I beg for clean clothes for my sister. I beg for every bite of food we eat."
"You don't have to beg here," I said. "We're happy to share."
"No one is happy to share," he said.
Alex looked down then, or I looked up. I don't know how it happened, but we made eye contact, and for a moment, I was drawn into his soul. I could see everything, the depth of his sorrow, his anger, his despair.
I feel sorrow and anger and despair. I don't think there's a person alive who doesn't. I sometimes feel like my sorrow and anger and despair burns inside me like the sun used to burn on a hot July day.
But that was nothing compared to what I sensed in Alex. His sorrow, his anger, his despair was like a thousand suns, like a galaxy of suns. It physically hurt me to look into his eyes, but I couldn't break away. He turned his head first, and then he apologized, or maybe he thanked me. For Alex, I think they're the same thing.
He bolted out of the room, leaving me to stare at my bookstore and think about the sin of pride and the sin of prejudice and all the other sins I'd left behind.
ETA: What Alex no doubt said was "my sisters' uniforms," referring to Bri and Julie. But since Miranda only knows about Julie, she hears it as "my sister's uniforms."
Miranda is very much an unreliable narrator in This World We Live In. She knows only what people tell her, and people don't necessarily tell her all the details.
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
You Can Never Get Too Tired Of Tulsa
Sometime after posting what I announced to be the third and final version of the Tulsa discussion, I decided Alex and Julie went to Tulsa before they went to Texas to find Carlos. Although all of this happens offstage, and Miranda only learns about it from what Alex and Julie tell her separately, the whole trip to Texas became increasingly important, and involved so many revisions that I've lost track (it's pretty much all I spent working on yesterday).
So here's the fourth and I really really hope final version of Alex telling Miranda about Tulsa:
"Who was in Tulsa?" I asked. "Or did you just pass through there?" It was easier to ask Alex questions with us both facing forward and no danger of eye contact.
"We thought we'd find our aunt and uncle," Alex said. "They set out for there last June. We spent a few days looking, but no luck."
"It's hard to picture cities," I said. "Cities with people."
"They're not like before," Alex said. "There are bodies. Mostly skeletons now, piled up. Even the rats have died. And only some buildings have heat, so you share apartments."
"Are there schools?" I asked, remembering my idea about places for politicians and millionaires to live. "Hospitals? Could you and Julie have stayed there?"
Alex held onto the steering wheel a little tighter. "The plan was for me to leave Julie with our aunt and uncle. I was going to get to Texas, find Carlos, let him know where we were, and then go back and work at the oil fields. But I couldn't leave Julie alone, so we went to Texas together."
"But you didn't stay down there," I said. "Couldn't you have worked in the Texas oil fields instead?"
"I could have," Alex said. "But there was no one to look after Julie."
"Julie's a good kid," I said. "She wouldn't have gotten into trouble."
"Trouble would have found her," Alex said. "We couldn't take that risk."
So here's the fourth and I really really hope final version of Alex telling Miranda about Tulsa:
"Who was in Tulsa?" I asked. "Or did you just pass through there?" It was easier to ask Alex questions with us both facing forward and no danger of eye contact.
"We thought we'd find our aunt and uncle," Alex said. "They set out for there last June. We spent a few days looking, but no luck."
"It's hard to picture cities," I said. "Cities with people."
"They're not like before," Alex said. "There are bodies. Mostly skeletons now, piled up. Even the rats have died. And only some buildings have heat, so you share apartments."
"Are there schools?" I asked, remembering my idea about places for politicians and millionaires to live. "Hospitals? Could you and Julie have stayed there?"
Alex held onto the steering wheel a little tighter. "The plan was for me to leave Julie with our aunt and uncle. I was going to get to Texas, find Carlos, let him know where we were, and then go back and work at the oil fields. But I couldn't leave Julie alone, so we went to Texas together."
"But you didn't stay down there," I said. "Couldn't you have worked in the Texas oil fields instead?"
"I could have," Alex said. "But there was no one to look after Julie."
"Julie's a good kid," I said. "She wouldn't have gotten into trouble."
"Trouble would have found her," Alex said. "We couldn't take that risk."
Saturday, June 6, 2009
Back To Tulsa We Go
I've been hard at work on the revisions for This World We Live In, and at the editor's suggestion, have added a couple of scenes. In one, Miranda comes up with the idea that there are places for the wealthy and powerful to live, the safe towns that figure prominently in the plot of the dead and the gone.
The editor also wanted more of a sense of Alex, and I put in a scene a couple of days after they meet, where Alex tells Miranda a story about his family. He and Miranda make eye contact, and Miranda gets a glimpse of the pain and anger Alex feels.
Finally, the editor wanted more of a sense of what was going on in the world, a world Alex has seen, but Miranda knows about only from what she hears on the radio.
With all that in mind, I revised Miranda and Alex talking about Tulsa for a third, and I sincerely hope last, time. So here's version the first, version the second, and version the last. I hope the differences, none of which are huge, have made the book better.
Number One:
"Who was in Tulsa?" I asked. "Or did you just pass through there."
"We thought we'd find our aunt and uncle," Alex said. "They'd set out for there. We spent a couple of days looking for them, but no luck."
"What was Tulsa like?" I asked. "Were there people there?"
"Oh yeah," Alex said. "Not like there used to be, I'm sure, but there were still people."
"But you didn't stay," I said. "Could you have?"
"I suppose," Alex said. "Maybe we should have. It's hard to know what to do with Julie. If we'd stayed in Tulsa, anywhere, I'd have had to to work, and that's okay. I don't mind that. But it would have meant either Julie would have to work too or she'd be left unsupervised."
"She's a good kid," I said. "She wouldn't get into trouble."
"Trouble would have found her," Alex said. "It wouldn't have been safe."
Number Two:
"Who was in Tulsa?” I asked. “Or did you just pass through there?” It was easier to ask Alex questions, since we were both facing frontward and not looking at each other.
“We thought we’d find our aunt and uncle,” Alex said. “They’d set out for there last June. We spent a couple of days looking for them, but no luck.”
“What was Tulsa like?” I asked. “Were there people there?”
“Oh yeah,” Alex said. “Not like there used to be, I’m sure, but there were still people.”
“But you didn’t stay,” I said. “Could you have?”
“I suppose,” Alex said. “Maybe we should have. It’s hard to know what to do with Julie.”
“She’s a good kid,” I said. “She wouldn’t get into trouble.”
“Trouble would have found her,” Alex said. “It wouldn’t have been safe.”
Number Three:
"Who was in Tulsa?" I asked. "Or did you just pass through there?" It was easier to ask Alex questions with both of us facing forward and no danger of eye contact.
"We thought we'd find our aunt and uncle," Alex said. "They set out for there last June. We spent a couple of days looking, but no luck."
"It's hard to picture cities," I said. "Cities with people."
"They're not like before," Alex said. "There are bodies, mostly skeletons now, piled up. Even the rats have died. And only some buildings have heat, so you share apartments."
The editor also wanted more of a sense of Alex, and I put in a scene a couple of days after they meet, where Alex tells Miranda a story about his family. He and Miranda make eye contact, and Miranda gets a glimpse of the pain and anger Alex feels.
Finally, the editor wanted more of a sense of what was going on in the world, a world Alex has seen, but Miranda knows about only from what she hears on the radio.
With all that in mind, I revised Miranda and Alex talking about Tulsa for a third, and I sincerely hope last, time. So here's version the first, version the second, and version the last. I hope the differences, none of which are huge, have made the book better.
Number One:
"Who was in Tulsa?" I asked. "Or did you just pass through there."
"We thought we'd find our aunt and uncle," Alex said. "They'd set out for there. We spent a couple of days looking for them, but no luck."
"What was Tulsa like?" I asked. "Were there people there?"
"Oh yeah," Alex said. "Not like there used to be, I'm sure, but there were still people."
"But you didn't stay," I said. "Could you have?"
"I suppose," Alex said. "Maybe we should have. It's hard to know what to do with Julie. If we'd stayed in Tulsa, anywhere, I'd have had to to work, and that's okay. I don't mind that. But it would have meant either Julie would have to work too or she'd be left unsupervised."
"She's a good kid," I said. "She wouldn't get into trouble."
"Trouble would have found her," Alex said. "It wouldn't have been safe."
Number Two:
"Who was in Tulsa?” I asked. “Or did you just pass through there?” It was easier to ask Alex questions, since we were both facing frontward and not looking at each other.
“We thought we’d find our aunt and uncle,” Alex said. “They’d set out for there last June. We spent a couple of days looking for them, but no luck.”
“What was Tulsa like?” I asked. “Were there people there?”
“Oh yeah,” Alex said. “Not like there used to be, I’m sure, but there were still people.”
“But you didn’t stay,” I said. “Could you have?”
“I suppose,” Alex said. “Maybe we should have. It’s hard to know what to do with Julie.”
“She’s a good kid,” I said. “She wouldn’t get into trouble.”
“Trouble would have found her,” Alex said. “It wouldn’t have been safe.”
Number Three:
"Who was in Tulsa?" I asked. "Or did you just pass through there?" It was easier to ask Alex questions with both of us facing forward and no danger of eye contact.
"We thought we'd find our aunt and uncle," Alex said. "They set out for there last June. We spent a couple of days looking, but no luck."
"It's hard to picture cities," I said. "Cities with people."
"They're not like before," Alex said. "There are bodies, mostly skeletons now, piled up. Even the rats have died. And only some buildings have heat, so you share apartments."
"Are there schools?"I asked, remembering my idea about places for politicians and millionaires to live. "Hospitals? Could you and Julie have stayed there?"
Alex held onto the steering wheel a little tighter. "I could have found work at the oil fields," he said. "But I wouldn't have known what to do about Julie."
"She's a good kid," I said. "She wouldn't get into trouble."
"Trouble would have found her," Alex said. "I couldn't take that risk. So we moved on."
Friday, May 29, 2009
Editorial Suggestions And Comments About This World We Live In
I have received a detailed letter outlining suggestions and comments from the editor of This World We Live In. Some I agree with, some I don't, but all indicate the intelligence and thoughtfulness that I had come to expect (I know at least one writer who has worked with this editor and who has loudly sung her praises).
The editor began her letter by telling me how she went about this particular, and not particularly easy, job. First she read This World We Live In. Then she read Life As We Knew It (which she'd read an early version of pre-publication). Then she read the dead and the gone. Then she went back and reread This World. She needed to determine how it worked as a standalone and as the sequel to two different novels.
I'm going to summarize some of the editor's suggestions (which I'll put in boldface) and some of my personal responses to those suggestions. Please remember the editor's suggestions are not as she wrote them, but as I paraphrase them. She wrote a single spaced three page letter, and a followup one page email, so my summaries will not do justice to her thoughts. Nor will I put all of them here. As always, this entry will be rife with spoilers.
Character and Setting Background: She would like more details about Miranda's fears and hopes earlier in the book, especially for those who haven't read LAWKI. She would also like more details about what the worldwide disasters were, and what Miranda's home and town are like.
All this is trickier than it might seem, but probably doable. I just have to have a delicate touch. Otherwise, the readers could get bogged down in details rather than action.
Alex: She would like Alex to be more sympathetic/appealing/attractive earlier on in the story, so readers will understand why Miranda is attracted to him.
Also doable, but also requiring a light touch. Alex is a problematic character under any circumstance. I love him, but he's not particularly lovable, which frankly is one reason why I love him. And I think Miranda is attacted to him more from hormones than anything else. In addition, I want Miranda to resent her father's affection for Alex and Julie, and if Alex comes off as too sympathetic too early, then Miranda's resentment will make her less likable. Still, I should be able to put in a quick glimpse of Alex tucking Julie in, or giving Julie a little bit extra food while taking less for himself, or even helping with housework without being asked.
The World Outside of Miranda's World: She would like to know more about what's going on in other locations, including information Miranda might have no access to. She thinks the readers would want to know more about how the government is handling things outside of Howell. She also suggests that we see the LAWKI/d&g household "rules" for survival, as they would be indicative of their own governing system (as well as a potential for conflict).
I was negative on this suggestion, and will most likely remain so. I don't think it's good for readers to know what the POV character doesn't know, which to some extent is unavoidable here, because some of the people who read This World will have read d&g (Miranda only knows what Alex and Julie tell her, and they don't tell her very much about their pasts). And while I love making up governmental rules and regs, I think they clutter a story.
The Ending: She would like more clarification at the actual end of the book, and a little more hope. She has no problem with it being open ended and said nothing about the fabulous part (a great relief to me), but she was confused about just what was going to happen once the book was over.
This is good, smart editing, and I'm already working out a slight shift in emphasis and a greater amount of detail for the last couple of pages. My agent had separately suggested the need for an additional Charlie scene, and I think I can work that in to give the new improved last couple of pages greater emotional resonance.
The Structure: She suggested eliminating the chapters, and having each month stand as a section.
I find this kind of funny, since when I wrote both LAWKI and d&g, I only put in chapters at my previous editor's request. But I think chapters are a good idea for This World, since the action takes place in only a three month period (four calendar months, April, May, June, July). I have each of those months as the start of a section, but I think chapter divisions within them are helpful. In any event, I put a poll up over at my other blog to see what you prefer.
I'll be working on the rewrites sporadically over the next couple of weeks, with a somewhat self-imposed deadline of June 11. Copy editing would like the book by June 15, since there's a very tight deadline if it's to be a Spring 2010 publication, which I fervently want. I will post here between now and then to let you know how the rewrites are coming along.
The editor began her letter by telling me how she went about this particular, and not particularly easy, job. First she read This World We Live In. Then she read Life As We Knew It (which she'd read an early version of pre-publication). Then she read the dead and the gone. Then she went back and reread This World. She needed to determine how it worked as a standalone and as the sequel to two different novels.
I'm going to summarize some of the editor's suggestions (which I'll put in boldface) and some of my personal responses to those suggestions. Please remember the editor's suggestions are not as she wrote them, but as I paraphrase them. She wrote a single spaced three page letter, and a followup one page email, so my summaries will not do justice to her thoughts. Nor will I put all of them here. As always, this entry will be rife with spoilers.
Character and Setting Background: She would like more details about Miranda's fears and hopes earlier in the book, especially for those who haven't read LAWKI. She would also like more details about what the worldwide disasters were, and what Miranda's home and town are like.
All this is trickier than it might seem, but probably doable. I just have to have a delicate touch. Otherwise, the readers could get bogged down in details rather than action.
Alex: She would like Alex to be more sympathetic/appealing/attractive earlier on in the story, so readers will understand why Miranda is attracted to him.
Also doable, but also requiring a light touch. Alex is a problematic character under any circumstance. I love him, but he's not particularly lovable, which frankly is one reason why I love him. And I think Miranda is attacted to him more from hormones than anything else. In addition, I want Miranda to resent her father's affection for Alex and Julie, and if Alex comes off as too sympathetic too early, then Miranda's resentment will make her less likable. Still, I should be able to put in a quick glimpse of Alex tucking Julie in, or giving Julie a little bit extra food while taking less for himself, or even helping with housework without being asked.
The World Outside of Miranda's World: She would like to know more about what's going on in other locations, including information Miranda might have no access to. She thinks the readers would want to know more about how the government is handling things outside of Howell. She also suggests that we see the LAWKI/d&g household "rules" for survival, as they would be indicative of their own governing system (as well as a potential for conflict).
I was negative on this suggestion, and will most likely remain so. I don't think it's good for readers to know what the POV character doesn't know, which to some extent is unavoidable here, because some of the people who read This World will have read d&g (Miranda only knows what Alex and Julie tell her, and they don't tell her very much about their pasts). And while I love making up governmental rules and regs, I think they clutter a story.
The Ending: She would like more clarification at the actual end of the book, and a little more hope. She has no problem with it being open ended and said nothing about the fabulous part (a great relief to me), but she was confused about just what was going to happen once the book was over.
This is good, smart editing, and I'm already working out a slight shift in emphasis and a greater amount of detail for the last couple of pages. My agent had separately suggested the need for an additional Charlie scene, and I think I can work that in to give the new improved last couple of pages greater emotional resonance.
The Structure: She suggested eliminating the chapters, and having each month stand as a section.
I find this kind of funny, since when I wrote both LAWKI and d&g, I only put in chapters at my previous editor's request. But I think chapters are a good idea for This World, since the action takes place in only a three month period (four calendar months, April, May, June, July). I have each of those months as the start of a section, but I think chapter divisions within them are helpful. In any event, I put a poll up over at my other blog to see what you prefer.
I'll be working on the rewrites sporadically over the next couple of weeks, with a somewhat self-imposed deadline of June 11. Copy editing would like the book by June 15, since there's a very tight deadline if it's to be a Spring 2010 publication, which I fervently want. I will post here between now and then to let you know how the rewrites are coming along.
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