Last January I started writing two different stories. One progressed faster than the other, and I had written twenty plus pages when the other story took hold and took off.
Last night, a year later, I finished this story. It is just over two-hundred pages long. As you can imagine I am quite excited.
Today I got it printed with a three hole punch done to the side and put it in a binder so I can begin to proof and edit.
This is hard work. It is annoying. It is frustrating.
Before I'm through with it, I will be sick of the book.
And then, when I think I've perfected it as much as humanly possible, someone else will look at it for me and find all sorts of errors.
And after they finish with it, someone else will read it, and find more mistakes.
I will let it sit "cold" for a while. Then I'll go back and read it again, and you won't believe this, but I'll find more errors.
And sure as shootin', after the story becomes a real live book in print, I'll read it proudly for the first time....and find an error.
It never fails.
Diana Gabaldon, one of my favorite authors, says when one closes the cover of a novel the errors reproduce.
I believe it!
But for now, the printed pages lie pristine between a binder's covers, full of hope and satisfaction.
Just waiting on me to begin.
The most perfect time for the book, because it is newborn.
I can hardly wait to hold it.
Showing posts with label perfection. Show all posts
Showing posts with label perfection. Show all posts
Thursday, January 9, 2014
Friday, October 4, 2013
Why Is It?
I'm getting a haircut in a few hours, and it started me thinking: (Oh, no, I hear you say)
Why is it when your hair finally looks really good, the next time you wash it, it all goes to grass and you need a hair cut in the worst way?
Why is it when you get all your nails out to a really nice length, you break one and they all go, just within a few days, until you might as well be grubbing worms barehanded?
Why is it when you have an injury - sunburn, bruise, cut, amputation, whatever - that's where your friends and family will thump, slap, rub or squeeze as soon as they see you?
Why is it when you get the farthest away from your car that it starts raining - hard - when only minutes before the sun was out?
Why is it when you look your absolute worst, but really have to - run out to the mailbox, run in the store for a loaf of bread, run to the gas station to fill up - that is when your Prince Charming from high school that you had a really bad crush on, shows up, looking not a day older and dressed immaculately? (He looks at you kindly and says, "You look vaguely familiar. Are you the mother of one of the girls I went to high school with?")
Why is it when you finally hit that perfect pitch high note, or hit the ball the farthest you ever have, or hit the bulls eye twelve times in a row, or do a perfect cartwheel, there is never anyone to witness it?
Why is it when you say something absolutely brilliant, there are only a handful of dunderheads that hear it, but when you say something really, really stupid or embarrassing, it's in front of a crowd?
Why is it when you are out and about and you really have to pee, that your elderly third grade teacher stops you to chat about how much fun she had at her 107th birthday party (that you weren't invited to) or the neighborhood hypochondriac stops you to tell you about her latest surgery/illness/episode, or you have a flat tire three miles away from the nearest bathroom and you don't have cellphone service in that area?
Why, people, why?
Why is it when your hair finally looks really good, the next time you wash it, it all goes to grass and you need a hair cut in the worst way?
Why is it when you get all your nails out to a really nice length, you break one and they all go, just within a few days, until you might as well be grubbing worms barehanded?
Why is it when you have an injury - sunburn, bruise, cut, amputation, whatever - that's where your friends and family will thump, slap, rub or squeeze as soon as they see you?
Why is it when you get the farthest away from your car that it starts raining - hard - when only minutes before the sun was out?
Why is it when you look your absolute worst, but really have to - run out to the mailbox, run in the store for a loaf of bread, run to the gas station to fill up - that is when your Prince Charming from high school that you had a really bad crush on, shows up, looking not a day older and dressed immaculately? (He looks at you kindly and says, "You look vaguely familiar. Are you the mother of one of the girls I went to high school with?")
Why is it when you finally hit that perfect pitch high note, or hit the ball the farthest you ever have, or hit the bulls eye twelve times in a row, or do a perfect cartwheel, there is never anyone to witness it?
Why is it when you say something absolutely brilliant, there are only a handful of dunderheads that hear it, but when you say something really, really stupid or embarrassing, it's in front of a crowd?
Why is it when you are out and about and you really have to pee, that your elderly third grade teacher stops you to chat about how much fun she had at her 107th birthday party (that you weren't invited to) or the neighborhood hypochondriac stops you to tell you about her latest surgery/illness/episode, or you have a flat tire three miles away from the nearest bathroom and you don't have cellphone service in that area?
Why, people, why?
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