My novel feels like this torn up piece of parchment. I'm done with the small little edits. Barrel through, I kept telling myself. Now, onto the big stuff.
For the last coupla days I'd been struggling with restructuring the first part of my novel. It's been playing havoc with my head. I'd leave my apartment and think about: HOW THE DREK AM I SUPPOSED TO FIX THIS?!?!
It got so bad that I began to vigorously clean. Anyone who knows me knows that things must have gotten really bad with rewrites if Noel turned to cleaning.
Just when I was about to crash my car into the nearest oak tree, it somehow came together this evening. Let me tell you that I felt this incredible lightness overtake me.
Rewrites are due by the end of this month--which ain't too far away. Back to cutting board.
4 comments:
Your experience sounds similar to what William Carlos Williams seems to have gone through in developing Paterson.
That piece of parchment is pretty. You've got nothing to worry about.
Glad you swerved away from the oak!
Yay for the incredible lightness! My friend Braveheart just experienced something similar in her rewrite...she described it as the egg finally cracking.
Bully for you for keeping on keeping on!
Post a Comment