Revising
I just finished (I say that loosely) a new draft of my novel.
I all but threw out the last draft and started over. The protagonist is the same, and her best friend—a sort of sidekick—remains. Other than that, the story morphed ahead several decades, and its focus became much smaller.
This writing process confounds me, yet I am in love with it. I spend so much time alone, mulling over words and phrases, wondering, “How would she really respond in this situation?”
Perhaps writing is a little like acting—we have to listen to our characters, really listen. It is so easy to miss something they say or misinterpret it, or—even more dire—avoid some truth that seems unbearable to look at.
In my last post, I wondered about the value of these posts. I don’t want to fill space just to fill space.
But I do want to write, and I do have something to say.
So I will muddle along, as I do with my characters, as I do in my life.
Comments
So I don’t come off as a muddler? Hmmm. It’s such a good verb though, isn’t it? To muddle.
Jan 26 June 08
I don’t think of you as a muddler. Maybe a circler? Definitely a muller. (Can one be a muller?)
Jane Kokernak 29 June 08
A circler? My dog does that—circles his bed endlessly before curling into sleep. And even in sleep, he becomes a literal circle.
Jan 2 July 08
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As I look at the world around me, people everywhere, somehow “muddle” is not the word I relate to you. LOL. But I love that you think that.
Anita 24 June 08