Cold Snap

Yesterday I had another major distraction: cold snap from an Alberta Clipper. Here I am in the Southeast, and it is 6 degrees outside! Argh. And the heater wasn't working properly. So once again, I awaited a technician to come and fix it. At first I worried I'd not get any writing done at all. But I discovered heat upstairs in the bonus room, so I carried my laptop, notes, and MS up there and worked until I got the pesky scene I'd been fighting into submission properly beaten down.

Now I have about seven thousand words to write -- about 40 pages. That's ten a day, but that sounds easier than it is because I have to rip out my outline notes, rewrite poorly written stuff/cut and move it to me autosave if I deem it completely unworthy, and then write from scratch. Revising is a process not for the weak of heart.

It's not journalism, or blogging about it, or writing about writing in random free flow form where grammar and plot and characterization don't matter.

It's hard work. But I am almost there. The stack of papers next to the laptop is signifcantly smaller than the stack of papers I've turned over during the revision. Forty pages instead of 240 pages. And for me, that's like seeing the goal post or the finish line in a race. I want to sprint to the end, but I know I need to jog. Jog well. Jog smart. Jog and take it one step at a time.

Today I probably won't write. My daughter is heading to DC and we're gearing up for that goodbye and see you later moment. Today I will read the next scene and make more notes toward getting it revised properly (or as properly as I can).

Tomorrow I will need to write. I know it.