And that folks is how it happens. BOOM! One day I’m trucking along and–well–that’s a lie I wasn’t really trucking along–it was more like trudging. So–day after day I’m trudging along–really slogging through my revisions. Of course I do this with a little happy smile on my face. I distinctly remember making a broad statement about loving revision so much more than drafting. *head thunk* Yup I love it, yet I keep finding myself trudging and slogging and wondering why it feels like I’m trying to push a square peg through a round hole. Yeah. Just. Like. That. And I get about 200 pages into the revision (that is full of trudging and slogging) and I get really tired. Not from the writing. Mostly because I stayed up too late watching The Biggest Loser. Don’t judge me–it’s motivating. Now it’s trudging, slogging, tipping. Yawn. (And just so you know–my brain never fully shuts off during a mid-day tip, so it doesn’t really count as a nap. I call it a brain storming session, okay?) But I digress. I’m at the point where the fixes to the MS aren’t as easy as the earlier ones and I dump 3 chapters. Just like that. And in honor of all that trudging and slogging or maybe because of it–I seriously just highlight that sucker and hit cut. I know I have another copy somewhere–dear god I hope I do. I mean in an emergency my agent has it, right? Anyway, back on task. I cut those chapters because I know I need new material. And that’s a good thing, but gosh darn it, since I’m a slow reviser with a crappy memory for detail, I don’t even remember all the changes I’ve made up until this point. How do I know if I’m making this puppy behave or if he’s just going to a different corner to pee on the floor and make another mess when I’m not looking?
Are you following me? Probably not–but just pretend because that’s what I was doing while I was revising–just going through the motions. Fake it till you make it. BIC or BOC (Butt on couch. It’s softer.) I need to get my bearing so I can move forward. I need to find my puppy! So, I back it up just a chapter or two and start reading. Then suddenly…
BOOM!
I repeat. BOOM! I don’t know how else to explain it. The world shifts from black and white to color. The puzzle pieces fall into place. The baby starts sleeping through the night. I don’t know why it happens, but suddenly there’s no longer trudging or slogging. My brain is firing on all cylinders. All the lights are shining on my Christmas tree. I’m tapping into something. And I want to weep for the sheer joy of knowing that I hadn’t imagined that a place like this really does exist. I HAVE been here before! I do know how to write a damn book and make it progressively better.
That’s the only way I can describe it. It feels insane, but maybe that’s because it IS insane. The act of writing is a product of dedication, hard work, persistence and a whole bunch of other SAT words. It’s showing up when you’re trudging and slogging and not sure you’re really an author. But the magic of writing–the BOOM–that’s a very different thing. That’s something bizzare, like observing a puppy in the corner, ready to pee and then he doesn’t–instead, he farts rainbows and unicorns.
Seriously, it’s just like that.
And I’ll be honest, I don’t know how long the magic puppy farts will stay. They seem to have their own agenda, but that’s the beauty of intermittent reinforcement. Once you know the unicorns and rainbows are out there–you can’t stop sniffing puppy butts. You just trudge and slog and tip while breathing in deeply and hoping.
I could wax poetic about this for hours, but I need to wrap this up–wouldn’t if be awful if I blew all my magic on the sheer awesomeness of this post. (Come on–you know you loved it.) Okay, you loved the puppy pics–same difference. LOL! Off to revise!
PS–I only have one question. Have YOU smelled the puppy farts?
PPS–When I tip later today it was totally because I stayed up late to write this post. It has nothing to do with The Biggest Looser. Besides–I’m a winner. Just go ask the unicorns.
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