A whole day’s worth. Despite backing them up 3 ways. Much hair tearing until I realized it was a good thing. The chapter sucked and was unnecessary. So I cut it. Take that, evil revision-eating demon.
Brian Ross. We worked on the school newspaper. He became a famous journalist. I didn’t. In the old days* he was afraid of snakes. Now he’s not even afraid of the Mafia. Go figure.
*Speaking of which, now you know how old I am, unless you’ve been gracious enough not to look it up.
So my two truly wonderful critque groups sometimes** give me suggestions so dramatic that they would involve total rewrites. And then I start ‘shredding’ and discover I’ve “lost my way” to quote the wonderful Rebecca Stead, because I’m not sure where the characters and story have disappeared to. Sometimes I do have an epiphany, and I say “That suggestion is the key to everything.”*** But when that doesn’t happen, as Ricky Nelson said in the immortal song, “Garden Party,”
You see, ya can’t please everyone, so ya got to please yourself
*If you’re old enough to remember who he is you probably refer to your CD player as a phonograph.
**As in ‘currently’
Do I actually write better on five hours of sleep, or is it that I think the words I just wrote are great because I’ve had five hours of sleep?*
*I’m not going to show you those words, because I deal very poorly with rejection.**
**And that’s why writing and acting are such perfect choices for me.***
Nor flooded coffee place shall keep me from writing. No, seriously, a mini-hurricane flooded my coffee/writing place. The water stopped inches from my feet. I kept writing anyway. In fairness (to me), so did everybody else. Nothing distracts me from my laptop and my latte.
A Capoeira demo in the middle of my favorite coffee place. Seriously? And I kept writing anyway.*
*I haven’t read what I wrote that day. It might be, uh, a bit aggressive.
I am going to finish the trilogy. Why, you might ask?* I read a spoiler-filled interview with the author and decided I liked the ending. Yes, that’s counterintuitive. So shoot me.
*Though you probably won’t