Revisions going so well, Marcel is just a blur in the rear-view mirror.
Now if I could get him to stop drooling on me, my notebook, and my mouse pad. For whatever reason, he knows better than to drool on my keyboard.
That’s a good boy.
revision
Me and Ingmar Bergman
I’m very, very lazy. I love to sit in a chair and look out the window and do nothing.
~ Ingmar Bergman
In art nothing must resemble an accident, not even movement.*
Sometimes I read a scene I’ve written and think, “Whoa, that’s way too much choreography. You’re doing a play-by-play of your character’s every move.” Then I cut some verbiage, chastising myself for cluttering yet another scene with too much distracting movement.
Today, I came across this photo of Zebu and me taken last spring in Uppsala, Sweden.
There’s a whole lotta movement going on in this slice of real life and the photo is a good example of what I want from the choreography in my scenes. I want the movement to tell a story.
* Edgar Degas
Aiming for done
Today, as I work on revisions and battle feelings of overwhelm and oh-my-goddess-will-I-ever-be-finished-with-this-effing-story, I’m trying to keep in mind that perfection is the enemy of done. My revisions will never, ever be perfect. This manuscript will never, ever be perfect no matter how many times I revise.
Yes, the bloom on this Christmas Cactus is pretty much perfect, but that kind of creation is out of my reach.
What is within my creative control is forging ahead. Ignoring the voices in my head telling me that my efforts are pointless because they’ll never be exactly right.
At this point, the healthiest attitude is to let go of exactly right and aim for exactly done.
Wordless Wednesday: obscure plotline edition
Bunny Monday
I’m writing writing writing, but am not yet finished with this draft. I need to send the manuscript to my critique group in a few days. The clock is ticking.
No time to say hello, good-bye . . .
Sunday Confessional: thirsty edition
I’m working away on my manuscript, making progress and feeling a distinct sense of accomplishment. However, I’m also looking forward to when I punch out for the day and can enjoy this parting gift from my brother-in-law:
Two of my favorite things — hooping and hoppy beer. Thank you again, Bob, for the Palisade Brewing Company’s Hula Hoppie Session IPA. This beer is already making me smile.
Safe travels on your drive back east!
A pain too lonely
Doubt is a pain too lonely to know that faith is his twin brother.
~ Khalil Gibran
Chainsaw massacre
Yesterday I (finally) came to the realization that a couple two or three much-loved scenes in my manuscript serve no real purpose. Try as I might, I couldn’t justify them. And after attempting to salvage little bits here and there, I (finally) came to another realization: pruning shears weren’t the tool for the job.
The first cut is the deepest, baby, I know.
Thankful Thursday
Today I kept writing despite
the overwhelm
the nasty voice
the fatigue
the feelings of futility
the sweet seduction of giving up
the anger
the impatience
the I’m-so-effing-sick-of-you
the stack of unread library books
Netflix
despair.
Today, I’m thankful I kept writing.
Coming up for air
All good writing is swimming under water and holding your breath.
~ F. Scott Fitzgerald
This is not to say that the words I put down today are necessarily good words, but for right now, they are close enough to good. I’m moving around some scenes and adding others to this draft, and many of the words I wrote today are more placeholder than set-in- stone. But, as a result of the day’s underwater swimming, I’m that much closer to The End.
And now, I breathe deeply.
Tracy Abell 