I am trying to do a brutal honest writeup of everything. The story is called, “Cold November Train.”
Done, that once through fast thing I do with every big writing. About half the work judging by the time if not the psyche.
These, I usually finish. This one, certainly.
For you.
I remain that little kid who wants attention. I confess it. But I put on a good show that I continue to make more excellent. Always new, always bright because I SEE it! So it is fair trade, though animal or infant motives might remain of some influence.
The beat up old man wants the tribe to want to keep him around, eh? But he can no longer hunt nor gather. It can be a problem when nature pushes too hard against the group’s life force.
Oh? A weapon maker who the children worship? Double rations!
It was at forty thousand words and holding at last count. So, a long short story.
Perfect.
Going through the work again again close from the top, line by line. Hard on my eyes. Use giant fonts. Switch back and forth between light themes and dark themes in the text editor I use to write. It will be a bit before I get the new eye-wear with the new ‘scrip from my new optometrist, so I endure with achy eyes. Proofreading is not my strong suite because of this pain..
“CTRL-+” is my special friend. Try it and its buddies, “CTRL–” and “CTRL-0.”
Anyhow, it is funny because I am at the same time resisting the fun create temptation to jump to the next step that involves moving exciting action to the opening, and then working in time transition in-between artful sentences and phrases.
But no. I will rewrite fresh from zero the epic opening. Meantime, I am doing a couple grammatical things that honorably mix formal with punk, like, “Yes” to the Oxford, but, “No” to silly old sequence adjectives all in a neat row. A linguist applies this test, “Does it add clarity?”
So I will stodgily push on through to the end to get that aspect of this particular piece all tuned and taut first. It will be worth the extra work Good writers give their readers value!
I get quality time in with my French Press beside me on the floor with my Mac Air on my lap in my sleeping quilts enwrapped, all snugly warm in my small cold room in the far east corner of a big giant house in the black before dawn chill. Waking up a bit breathless still, I work. It is calming.
So soon, but not “any day now.” Real time estimate require a third review after the big copy edit I told you about. But not “any week now” either!
No. I am busting ass.
A week, but that could be one of them there thirteen day weeks.
I always need a little break too before the final re-read. Though I will use time to get the first chapters super pretty first so we can get this show on the road!
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