Right now I’m sitting in my son’s trombone lesson, awaiting a stampede of horny moose to show up in response to some of the sounds being made in this room.
Optimal writing conditions. Exactly how Virginia Woolf recommended we work.
It’s been that kind of week, where the “parent” part of “working parent” trumps the “working” part. Finding corners and minutes to work at odd times, trying to work out plot holes while kids are brushing teeth, putting work aside for conferences and long weekends and Valentines Days (a holiday we largely celebrate by trading terrible puns). Yes, my full attention matters to my kids, and it’s an investment in three little people, and I’ll miss it someday, but you know…
Right now there’s always a stampede in the distance.
Listen for hooves and adjust.
I’m in my second week of reworking my first novel. I’ve re-outlined what I wrote, started to identify the problems I need to solve, and started solving them.
Character. Plot. Structure. It’s like doing a jigsaw puzzle that is also a crossword that is written in invisible. A Saturday New York Times crossword. But to do the jigsaw you need to do some of the crossword clues and to do that you need to make the ink visible. Which only works for one corner of the jigsaw puzzle.
Just today at the grocery store I finally figured out what the first scene should be and I actually said, “AHA!” right there in the middle of the cheese.
Hooray for cheese aisle AHAs.
This week I’m diving deeper into problem-solving, chiseling away at those things that don’t serve the story, fleshing out characters, and prepping to actually rewrite.
It’s excruciating and I love it.