I’m immersed in revisions. And this is a good thing. There’s
nothing quite like having direction and running with it. I like to joke that entering
a season of editing closely compares to visiting a famous hotel in California.
You can check in any time you like, but you can never leave. At least it feels
that way. I’ve frequented my novel a lot in my dreams lately. Ideas for plot
changes filter through conversations. Even in the midst of a fairly significant
life transition my family is going through, I still find myself hacking through
details in my book. It feels glorious. It’s not that I love editing. I don’t
particularly enjoy coming across ridiculous mistakes I’ve made, slashing
chapters, disappearing characters, or the laborious task of reimagining entire
sections of my book.
But I do love working toward improvement. I’m all in when it
comes to that.
If I’m a little quiet on social media you’ll understand why.
I’m playing Edit Twister
or coaching my dog how to tackle edits on the days my brain
is mush.
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