So you’re thinking: Good God A’mighty, Gertrude, what’s with all this talk of revision? Revision, rewrite, rework…re, re, re…Sure, the girl’s promised to be off and running on a new draft—but has she? Hmm? Has she started a single new project lately, or is she still revising old ones? More importantly: how many old projects can the girl possibly have?
Uh, well, um, a lot. And I mean. A lot. I’ve got manuscripts crammed in my sock drawer and the breadbox. The crisper in the Frigidaire. The glove compartment in the Mercury. They fall out of the linen closet when I reach for clean pillowcases.
I have, after all, been writing full time since ’01.
And sure, those books didn’t exactly work the first time around, but hey, I lost track of exactly how long this female cardinal attempted to build her nest at my house. First she tried the sill of my office window, then the porch light, then an awning, each time getting only about halfway through before the nest toppled from the too-small sill, or slid down the awning, or, okay, got destroyed by a do-gooding writer (that porch light gets so hot, it would have hard-boiled her babies, I swear). But she kept at it…and since I haven’t seen her in a while, I feel it’s safe to assume that she finally found the perfect answer to it all.
…And eventually, the same will be said of all my old manuscripts…
Uh, well, um, a lot. And I mean. A lot. I’ve got manuscripts crammed in my sock drawer and the breadbox. The crisper in the Frigidaire. The glove compartment in the Mercury. They fall out of the linen closet when I reach for clean pillowcases.
I have, after all, been writing full time since ’01.
And sure, those books didn’t exactly work the first time around, but hey, I lost track of exactly how long this female cardinal attempted to build her nest at my house. First she tried the sill of my office window, then the porch light, then an awning, each time getting only about halfway through before the nest toppled from the too-small sill, or slid down the awning, or, okay, got destroyed by a do-gooding writer (that porch light gets so hot, it would have hard-boiled her babies, I swear). But she kept at it…and since I haven’t seen her in a while, I feel it’s safe to assume that she finally found the perfect answer to it all.
…And eventually, the same will be said of all my old manuscripts…
Holly,
ReplyDeleteThanks for becoming a follower of Readingjunky's Reading Roost. I stopped by your website to check out THE OCEAN FLOOR. It really sounds like my kind of story. Can't wait to read it. Much luck with the publishing process.
RJ