Every morning last week I woke and thought, “I am going to re-write that story this week, starting today.” And today and today and it never happened. It’s Saturday night, I need to have it ready by tomorrow and all I have managed thus far is to change the opening lines. And I call myself a writer!
Well, yeah, I do. Call myself a writer that is. Still, in spite of my best efforts the story lay in four stacks at my feet. My original, and three critiques, complete with edits. J I spent the past 6 days scribbling all over them, making notations and dabbing up the tears of frustration that kept dripping from my chin. Every spare chance I had I was shuffling papers and pondering the story. And all of this brought forth only one sentence.
While cutting up chicken into bite size pieces for our young grandson tonight, it occurred to me that I have been re-writing all wrong. I’m not sure why I have always done it the way I do, trying to take on the whole thing at once. It’s no wonder I choke.
After dinner I got the baby to sleep and came back in here to my desk, picked up the first two pages of my story and laid them aside. I put the rest of the story, along with the three critiques in a folder and put it in my desk drawer. I am going to re-write those two pages tomorrow. If I find two pages to be too intimidating, I’ll start with one.
The first thing I will tell myself when I wake up in the morning is “Today I am going to re-write two pages.” I’ll let you know how it goes.
**Posted by Jean for Sherry who had issues with blogger today.**