Passed a landmark today–another draft finished! This was a big and rather gory one, the remaking of Tattoo from a jumbled dream to a somewhat-more-streamlined and chronological dream. At least I hope it’s ordered enough to make sense to someone else. I admit that I have a problem with time lines. I don’t think in straight lines; I think in circuits, stars, snowflakes and fun house mirror images. There is at times, I think, too much of the dream world in my stories. In my dreams, I jump from character to character and scene to scene, loosely following some disjointed narrative. You know how dreams are. Like some strange, art house film that makes more sense to the director than the audience, even though they can get the gist of it.
So I’m trying to be more linear, I really am. That meant going back through the whole thing and untangling all my plot threads, a bit like carding wool, unpicking the knots and retying them. I thought I had it all worked out until I woke up this morning and remembered that it takes nine months to grow a baby. I’d convinced myself that the entire novel took place within one week. Carding, again. Stretching, shaping, cleaning. We move from spring to summer to fall. The book closes as the season turns, and hopefully, everything is at last in its right place.