Dear Reader,
The writing day has begun with too many choices, even though I thought I had cleared the way. Apparently there are still many if/then’s to be figured out.
For instance, I printed about 225 pages last night, but one of the threads wasn’t the file I should have printed. It’s fine, but it’s not the one that had been sequenced.
Rookie mistake.
But even before that, too many choices. Writing likes choices but not about everything but itself.
I woke before six, eager to get to the page.
But should I go to the gym before or after some writing/reading/revising? That would affect what clothes I chose.
Going to the kitchen to take a pain pill to loosen the wrist meant deciding whether I should take an acetaminophen or one of my stronger prescription pain pills. (It’s not that serious.)
Once in the kitchen, I spotted the open dishwasher asking for me or Word Raccoon to empty it. WR laughed at its request. Behind her back, I have gradually been putting things away all day.
I had to decide if I was hungry (I wasn’t), if I should prep for brunch later (I didn’t), whether I should drink Coke Zero or tea or coffee or just water for now (WR demanded CZ, obviously).
MORNING NOTES: I am blogging right now because I am on the porch and it’s too dark to bring my pages out here, and I don’t want a light yet.
While the solar lanterns are still going, sunlight is filtering in. The neighbors’ house (which received a mention in a library parking lot direction: “Look for the purple house”) is framed by deep velvet blue sky. I wish they could see it.
Blogging is a way of clearing the mind, of reminding myself that there’s a world out there beyond this novel that both delights and scares me (the novel, and sometimes the world, I guess).
One thing is certain: if I don’t try to finish this novel that’s been living in my mind for too long now, I simply won’t.
And that’s not something I’m willing to live with.
End-of-the-day update:
A novel thread which is 40 pages long is auditioning for a larger role. I’m thinking that would be fantastic, but it means quite a bit of writing. And, it seems like it’s a fresh take on this topic, so I like it even more. (I’m really excited for it, but my brain has been busy all day and zzz…)
I made it through the thread I just mentioned (let’s call it E.) AND I made it through the James thread. That’s still my favorite thread. There are gaps, some development is needed. But it feels right, and I’ve managed (I think) to use details to reveal more than just the objects, something I struggle to do.
I’ve made pages of notes of additions, subtractions, reading to do if I’m going in this direction.
This is the part I desperately wish I could talk about, the E thread. If you know me in real life, feel free to ask when you see me next!
Maybe I DO know what this book wants to become.
So all told I read and revised and identified holes in close to 100 pages. That’s only because both drafts are clean. The other two threads are going to be nightmares, I fear, to revise.
Still, I’m delighted to imagine the novel with these add-ons, so it will be worth it.
“Delighted, you say?” Word Raccoon mocks.
Don’t mind her. She’s just cranky because I’ve had her on task since 6 a.m., and it’s now 7 p.m. She shouldn’t complain; I gave her breaks! I also gave her all the snacks.
Forgive me if this is ragged. It’s been a productive day, but I’m, as my Southern kinfolk might say, plum tuckered out.
At least we were able to watch the town’s parade from our perch, and WR cheered for the three-tier cake float. It gave her eyes something fun to watch while doing all this work.
Drema