That’s me, all clean and shiny after a shower. That light on my face is electric. I’m wearing my Belle Books “Rise and Shine, Buttercup, no one else’s gonna write that book” and drinking mango peach seltzer (the best ever) and eating a Kashi peanut butter breakfast bar (my go to – 140 calories and I order them from Amazon). Weight’s still off – now I have to dip down lower, but summer is a good time for that.
It is raining. It rained every day last week. It rained every day the week before. It’s supposed to rain to at least Thursday. Maybe snow in the higher elevations tonight, and I’m in the higher elevations. So it’s cold, and dark, and wet. If I ever move to the Pacific Northwest it’s gonna feel like the tropics.
I’m in the midst of taking my 3/4 of a book and ripping it apart, tossing things right and left, twisting stuff like a pretzel, creating a new villain, turning the old one into a complicit but not evil person. (and that just sent me off into a political diatribe which I then cut, and putting it in another post so people can avoid it. I understand the need to avoid politics).
Jenny’s process and mine are so different I can’t imagine how we ever managed to collaborate on two books (and I love those books. Go figure). I assume all of you read Argh. The first time I met Jenny, face to face, she did a little talk about her process (she was writing Harlequin Temptations at the time) and my eyes bugged out and my mouth dropped open and I said “you do that for every book?” in tones of horror.
I’m a natural born writer. I know it, and Jenny says so too. Stories come to me, framework and worm (okay, what the hell is worm? It’s auto-correct, but I have no idea what I had originally said. I don’t think it was work) are usually instinctive. Most of the time I just write it and it works. (That doesn’t mean it works for you – matters of taste are a different thing entirely. As Jo Beverley used to say, you can’t expect everyone to love your books. You just have to find the ones who will.)
But every now and then I get a book that just doesn’t get itself together, for whatever reasons. And then I have to pull a Jenny on it, ripping it apart, turning the damned thing into a (choke) outline, printing it up, slashing and cutting and killing all my darlings. Well, not all of them – then it wouldn’t be any fun.
So that’s what I’m doing – surgery on a book that be glorious in the end. In between stenciling doll furniture and making clothes and talking to my fabulous grandchildren via FaceTime and really enjoying my birthday and loving my husband and not worrying as much about my children cause I can’t fix them and ….
So, what’s on your agenda?
Update: It’s 37 degrees at 2:11 pm. I had to put on one of Jenny’s warm shawls. Brrr. In other news, I’m finally learning all of Le Marseillaise.