Remember back in the “Good Ol’ Days”, the halcyon, glory-tinged days of yestermonth, when I actually managed to post more than just a short poem and a dredging up of old short fiction? Like, when I wrote posts about topics. Yeah, last month truly was the Golden Age for blogging.
Take comfort, though! Thing are looking up, at least from a blogging perspective. As was kind of expected, I’m going to have to hit the big blue “Pause” button on this year’s NaNoWriMo manuscript, Project Tennyson. Those revisions I figured I’d end up need for Project Macaroni have hit him square in the inbox, so it’s time to roll up my sleeves and start snipping and cutting it into the most beautiful bonsai-shaped novel in the garden.
Or something. Mayhap the bonsai tree metaphor was a bit of a stretch? I’ll let you decide.
Anyway, setting Tennyson aside for the moment is somewhat bittersweet. According to my calculations—which, admittedly were done amidst of a Pumpkin Ale bender using the back of a very unhappy hairless cat* as scrap paper—I’m two-thirds of the way home with the novel at the moment. That’s when the momentum really ramps up and you start sliding towards home. The story is right at the point where the big ball of you-know-what is about to fly directly into the swirling fan blades. It’s a bit of tease, then, to pull the narrative over now. Plus, believe it or not, I don’t like leaving things undone, especially when only 17k words separate Here and Done.
But, this is one of many differences between being a professional writer and a hobby writer. I think I’ve been pretty clear which label I’d rather wear**.
With all that in mind, the goods news is that revisions are a whole different ball of wax than the high-speed, pedal-floored, chuck-caution-(and-grammar)-to-the-wind process of writing a first draft. Initial drafting is like having a finite pool of words swirling around in your head every morning. Each time you dip your pen in, pull one out, and throw it in your manuscript, you shrink the available herd. By the time I finish writing on the novel for the day, there’s not much left but a few errant copies of “the”, some unnecessary adverbs, and a handful of phrases that when chucked together seem like the linguistic equivalent of twerking.
See? Not a whole lot to work with for a blog post. Which, obviously, is why posts in these parts have been generally shorter in length in longer in days between since November 1. But then, you knew that already, didn’t you. This isn’t our first rodeo.
The good news is, between now and the holidays, it’s revision, revision, revision. So, sit back, relax, and thank whatever divine entity you believe in (or don’t; to each his/her/its own) that it’s time to get the blog engine back up to speed and slip on the cruise control.
So, congrats, boys and girls, looks like we’re going to be haiku-free, at least until the first of the year.
Let that will be my early Christmas gift to you.
Well, that and the mental image of someone trying to write on a hairless cat.
Have a great weekend, puddintopians!
And try not to set the place on fire.
*I’m kidding. No hairless cats were harmed in the making of this post. Calculations were actually done by a horse who counts via stomping.
**Member’s Only, duh