I’ll spare you the ubiquitous “January 2020 was the longest decade of my life” jokes and raise a glass to everyone in solidarity.
Starting rewrites and edits from the beginning is some kind of hilarious because my beginning , a fairly important part of a book to get right, is my biggest mess. I can’t get it to hold up to its importance, so my plan is to revisit it weekly and rewrite it as a “break” between other scenes and chapters. Once I get the beginning good (enough) the rest will flow so much easier, but it’s like strength training. I have to build it up over time and allow my brain muscles and whatever else is up there to rest.
This meant, as it usually does, that the writing suffered and my schedule, which involved getting the first act of my book fully edited by mid-February, was too optimistic. By the third day of January, I was already somehow a week behind, which, while exciting that I somehow have that kind of power over time and space, I can never seem to get that to work to my advantage.