The Joy of Polishing

Now that Novel #3 is in the can, I have the surprisingly enjoyable task of polishing. It's the only phase of the writing process that doesn't hurt. It's where you take a solid story and make it sing. I love this part. I wish every aspect of writing were like this.But then, if it were, everyone would be a writer and we'd run out of readers.Here's a snippet:

If only there were some way to protect Luke from the gang politics that are about to unfold, some way to immunize him. Max’s ascension is only the beginning. With every day that brings Luke closer to his eighteenth birthday, the pressure will only increase. He doesn’t realize it, of course, but losing Max is nothing. It won’t even seem like a big deal pretty soon. There’ll be other losses, bigger losses. And somehow he’ll have to find the strength to ride them out or risk ending up like me.“Work on the girls,” I tell him.He looks doubtful at first. But as he rubs the soup bowls dry--first slowly, then with increasing vigor—I sense him coming around. I sense him plotting, scheming.Which is exactly what he must do.He shouldn’t even wait until Monday to forget about Max. He should put his friend behind him right this very minute and focus on the girls.Forget loyalty. Loyalty is worth nothing in this world.