As I’ve mentioned before, I participated in National Writing Month which was both challenging, excrutiating, and inspiring. I ‘won’ after completing 50,000 words, 39,00 for my current work in progress, Undercity, and 10,000 for chapters and shorter works that I when I couldn’t squeeze anything out of Undercity.
I got a copy in book form and reveled in the fact that I completed it, but then found that my story was quite quite stiff. It wasn’t a surprise – I knew that when I was writing. I needed to get out the bones of the mystery so that I could flesh out the details when I edited it later on, I thought. My goal was to have it done by March (!) which didn’t happen of course.
In short, I was overwhelmed by the changes I wanted to do, the story I wanted to tell, and just how to focus on doing that while there was a continuous flood of other ideas I didn’t want to lose at the time. And now, in the beginning of June, after my internal guilt has worn off, I have determined my problem. I wasn’t motivated to edit the chapters because there was plainly too much material. The first chapter is strong but the rest are muddled and I can’t determine how I would tackle the tangle I had written for myself. How to inject my own voice and make a detailed story as I had in the past.
Therein lies my debate with myself of whether to rewrite. That’s a lot of effort, I said to myself, another headache. But I already have the material on hand and referring to it throughout. Not so a daunting task, I concluded. I have the time. I shouldn’t rush myself to create a story, the same way I don’t like to rush myself to make an artistic work. And so I challenge myself once more to embark on the long haul, a journey to craft my story with care, because it deserves that. And I deserve that patience for myself.
And so, it begins.