What a completely weird life this writing life is. Really. The main reason that I blog is that you all, well most of you, understand this. You understand why I went to a pow-wow by myself and have thrown out three chapters of my book. Thrown them out! Why? Because I have to write them all again. In a completely different way. And believe me when I tell you that I got most things about pow-wow right! Yes, the things I imagined (with plenty of research into the culture) were quite true to my experience on Saturday.
None the less, I have to begin again.
What this means in terms of my daily revising practice, is that I have skipped ahead to chapter 34, 35, 36. I copied those chapters and dropped them into a new document and now I'm destroying them and rewriting. It is scary and fun. Oh, don't worry - I have every darn iteration of this book. I don't kill my darlings; I move them to files called 'bits & pieces' or 'stuff hauled out for now' or 'gaaaack - what was I thinking?'.
When I'm not at my desk, say when I'm walking with Hoagy, or driving to my grandson's baseball practice - I'm muttering away - trying different ideas. I'm tortured, my dears, simply tortured. I don't trust anything I've written or thought. I'm in the thick of it. But tortured though I am - I also feel...uh...good. Am I a sado-masochist? Really, am I?
How about you? Are you one?
OK - Gwen is here and we're ready to write - see you later...