She peeled back the curtains and noticed the drops of slanting rain, coursing down the window pane. In the cold, without any of the usual warmth in the radiators, she shivered and yearned to crawl back to her warm bed. But she had things to do, people to meet, appointments to honour. Breakfast was the usual bowl of oats and nut shavings, but she decided to brighten it with a scattering of dried, bitter berries, which brought out the flavour and fed colour to her heart.
As she stumbled to the car, her right knee collapsed and so did she, grazing her hand and grasping in vain for any handhold at the rear of her smooth, aerodynamic vehicle. As she leaned and slid upwards, praying desperately, despair could have taken the lid off all her hopes. But, as she spoke her annoyance, she noticed that it lacked its usual conviction. Like a chesty cough loosening in late spring, her words were blown aside, she kept her focus, and got to the baths early. There she swam better than she might have. Warmed in the sauna, she accepted an invitation to tea, chatted companionably and then zipped through all her town chores easily. As the wind blew, she tripped, stumbled and fell, and oft-times she could have become distracted with the discomfort at her edges, the aching joints, the cold breeze blowing rain and dirt in her face. There was a time when she would have.
But no more! Now, her determination to smile felt liberated, and bits of stumbling resistance were chaff, just to be ignored. She knew, now, that if she would simply keep on doing what she chose, that life would get smoother, easier, gentler, kinder and more and more and more and more FUN. As she crested the hill, turned for home and contemplated the many successes of the past hour, she grinned widely, felt as if she was flying, and knew, this time, she meant business. Go Girl Go! For God’s Sake, just FLY!
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March 16, 2015
Writing and Resting Work in Progress
Fran Macilvey allowing, change, patience, writing The Rights & Wrongs of Writing 2 Comments
Having written up a second, third or thirtieth draft of any substantial writing project, I find that it benefits from resting a while. Writing and resting work in progress, I may decide not to look at it for, say, four or six months, and meantime take up another project to work on. It is good to have several projects on the go at once, I find, because that keeps me fresh.
Letting a book rest has obvious advantages. The more we write, the better we get, and sometimes, with the passage of a short while, it is very clear where a passage can be improved, which we thought perfect when it was being consigned to its enforced rest. I am grateful for the opportunity to improve, which time offers. After all, where’s the hurry? Unless an editor is actually breathing down our necks, why not slow the pace down and focus more on thoughtful enjoyment? Sometimes, my focus on a daily word count is a bit counter-productive.
Working alone, I also value the shift in perspective that time offers. Ideas that now feel hopelessly naïve, opinions that are exposed as a little under-proved, and examples that are perhaps just a bit too esoteric, are all easier to spot with a bit of distance. Plot weaknesses are also easier to home in on. It is amazing how often I can read through a piece without spotting that I’ve changed names half way through.
And we writers can be touchy. We don’t like other people to tell us what is ‘wrong’ with our writing; so leaving a book to mature is one way of making sure that when someone doesn’t like our writing, it is for personal, rather than pedantic reasons.
Thanks for reading.
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