Time to put on my big boy pants. Last week I accomplished WAY more than I had expected to. This week, to give myself even MORE of a challenge, I’m going to conquer the 2nd draft of a story that I’ve been sitting on for awhile. I love the story. I think it works. But … and MOST IMPORTANTLY, I think, is that I’m far enough away from it that I can see the flaws. I can take a cobbled mass of dreamwork and sculpt it into a story.
At least, I think I can. I think I can. I …
I know I can, man. I read Malcolm Gladwell’s book, about how you become a specialist in something after 10,000 hours. The thing he DOESN’T say, is that you need 10,000 hours for EVERY PART OF THE PROCESS. I’m totally there when it comes to descriptive passages and narrative and dialogue, but revision? Have I spent 10,000 hours on that yet?
I don’t think so.
The good news is, I don’t have any deadlines. I don’t have editors waiting for drafts. I don’t have contracts to fulfill. I get to write for the utter joy of it. For the love. And I can fuck up. I can make all the mistakes I want.
Now, excuse me. I’m doing this post to procrastinate, just a minute longer, before tackling that 2nd draft. But I’ve opened a new file in Word, and the blank page is calling. I’m going to try to retype the whole story (less than 5000 words), and I’m going to rewrite as I go, including all the cuts and edits and notes that say things like WTF IS GOING ON HERE?! and IS THIS NECESSARY FOR THIS PARTICULAR STORY?!?
Wish me luck.