Ever have one of those days when you’re itching to write, but everything gets in the way? I’ve been dying to get to my computer, but there are dishes to do, and my floor needs mopped. I have phone calls to make and laundry to do, and the flowers need weeding… And on top of that my phone keeps ringing. Everyone needs me. I need to write.
It’s true. I need to write. Writing satisfies me. I love the magic of words, the sound of words, the flow of words. I love to shape and twist words and make them dance. I love to roll them around in my head and spit them out in new patterns. I love the music of words. I love to listen to the sound they make as they sing in the corners of my mind.
Rewrites. I love rewrites. I really do. I sent my publisher a picture book. They liked the idea, but not the story. They wanted a different perspective. I completely rewrote it. They loved the changes, but… They want less tension. They want less mystery. All the things I love about the story, they want me to change. Okay, not all.
At first I wanted to say, “Whose story is this anyway? By the time we’re done with this story will I even be able to recognize it? Do you get how much this will change the story?” But I thought it over and decided what a great problem to have. They like my story and they are willing to help me make it better. I decided to make it an adventure. Am I a good enough writer to make it work?
I think I am. I hope I am. I can’t wait to try.
Now about that floor.