It's a cold, listless day, weatherwise, taking its cue from lethargic sunshine. Meetings have been light on the work side. I'm working on next quarter's forecast for parts and unravelling what Europe needs to order to fill gaps. System outages are making it a frustrating experience so I cut out to do my writing after a few hours of struggle.
Back at The Beanery, I'm at my lucky table, finishing up today's editing and revising. The pace has slowed. That doesn't surprise me. Most of the previous writing was written, edited and revised before so it's more mature. The 8,000 words that I added to finish a bridge between the climax, denoument and ending is what needs the most attention. Written with the speed of thought, limited by how fast my fingers could travel a keyboard, it has some typos along with passages that make me go, "Huh? What did I mean there?"
That doesn't dismay me. It all still progresses well. One thought that came to me yesterday was how much greater my confidence has become in my fiction writing voice. It used to be that I'd read some lovely writing and then read my own, and well, retch on what I'd written because it suffered in comparison. Now, though, I see the styles as manifestations of voices. I can admire another's style and voices and still respect mine as different but filling the story's need. Took a lot of years of writing, editing, revising, reading and thinking to understand this.
Now the writing day goes on pause again. Back to work for a meeting, back to work to answer emails and develop the forecast.
Hope everyone else can keep writing like crazy.
Causes Michael Seidel Supports
Kiva, Women's International League for Peace and Freedom, Propublica.org, Doctors Without Borders, GreaterGood.com