I’ve now started the rewrite of my young adult novel. While rewriting might, logically, seem like a shorter job than writing, I’m not sure it is. Is it quicker to renovate an existing room or just bulldoze it and build a new one? (Before you answer that, I’d like to point out that my kitchen has been in the same state of renovation for approximately two years! Where’s a bulldozer when you need one?)
I believe I can do this, and do it to deadline. I’ve had great feedback from my readers, which will improve the story tremendously. I knew that the rewrite was going to be a big job; even without the feedback, I spotted some major things that needed rewritten. I’ve also had, along with the criticism, a lot of praise, which has boosted my belief that this is a story worth telling, and worth finishing.
In my pre-writer days, I really didn’t think that writing could be such hard work. I was rather surprised to find that it’s so difficult to get things right, and so close to impossible to get them right the first time. Like anything else, it takes time, patience, practice and consistent effort. I didn’t get to be a good printmaker overnight, or a good potter, or spinner, or weaver, or anything else I’ve learned to do. Even now, pottery is work, especially if I’m learning to do something different. Writing is the same.
So I have, in my mother’s words, “girded my lions” for the task. (Mom liked wordplay, another thing I’ve inherited from her.) I have coffee. I have chocolate. I have a sheaf of suggestions and my own private cheering section. Oh, yes, and my word processor. The Muse has rolled up her sleeves, and it’s time for me to get on wi’ t’job.
Here’s my ladle and my bucket of words. Off to feed the penguin.