…STILL NOT REREADING THE GIANT FAT NEARLY NEARLY FINAL…
When we reread our work, we have to do it in a quiet friendly way. Open to what it has to say to us about its rents and gaps and snags and flaws. Some of the flaws are part of the beauty of the work. Some will need to be fixed. Some will fix themselves if we look the other way.
There are parts of my book that are much smarter than I am. There are parts that are so flat, obvious and dull, so dumb—I could weep. Those two things together create friction, create chaos. It always feels like breaking through a skin, going back in.
I know the secret is to keep an open heart, a clear mind, equal parts effort and sweetness, breath and bite, hard and soft, yes and no. I know I need to just do it, just read it
This was all supposed to be done before the vacation but I was distracted by a very fun interlude ….
And now this morning I have reorganized my food shelves (too many cans of refried beans! what am I thinking when I shop?)
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It’s all about Hope and Doubt (two sides of the same thing). If I don’t read it, I can pretend it’s perfect and horrible; in either case nothing can be done. A writer works. A writer hushes, holds, starts, appraises, chooses, and wrestles things from the dark sea. (Thanks, Eric Maisel. )
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