This past weekend, while it seemed just about everyone was taking their final vacations and hosting Labor Day cookouts and getting their kids ready to go back to school, I was hunched up in my house, struggling with the first major revision of my work in progress. The first revision seems to be the hardest for me — not because of all the changes and cuts that need to be made. It’s because of all the text I have to add. I’m pretty good at cutting away and rearranging; I’m not so eager to tease out new scenes. And this time, I needed to add four new chapters, most of which were filled with a lot of action. Sporty action. Gaah.
So I did it, slowly and painfully, and emailed it and printed it out for my Trusted Readers. You’d think I’d feel a sense of exhilaration and relief at this point, but no. Because this is just the beginning. I’ve reinforced the major, structural stuff, but I know I still have plenty of dangling threads. Wait, is that a mixed metaphor? I think I’m too tired to care.
On the upside, my family in CT got their power back late last week, so the cheese and chicken are no longer in danger. My grandmother is now gearing up for her trip to Florida, where she will stay until May, and where she can keep her food cold and the rest of her house un-airconditioned, the way she likes it. FYI, Cousin Joyce will be staying in CT, though I’m not sure anyone has broken the news to her yet. If she had a face, I’m sure it would register disappointment.
I’m gearing up for the Providence Arts Festival this Saturday, where I’ll be participating in a storytelling session at the ROOTS Cafe from 12-5 (my slot is at 3:20pm) and selling and signing my books. I’m looking forward to focusing on stories that are finished and published and out in the world, for a change. Will I see you there?
Photo by “dan.”