So, I indulged. I did. And it felt better than eating two tons of chocolate without gaining a pound. My revision and I had quite a playdate this weekend. And I had a funny moment, I thought I’d share. On Saturday, after working on my revision for eleven hours, I looked at the clock and said, “Oh, good, I can get in another five hours.” And I laughed. This is how we know we’re doing what makes us happy, when we can work for sixteen hours straight and still love what we’re doing and feel a little slighted that we eventually have to sleep. Sunday, I had another wonderful day (unfortunately, the lawn forced me to mow it, so I did have to stop for a while). Weekend playdate total: 27 hours. I’m getting closer to sending the revision off to Mz. SuperFabulous for a read through before I send it to a couple agents who have been wonderfully patient in waiting for it.
Revision feels like a baneful word to writers. It means our initial effort didn’t rock the universe and leave the masses cheering for us, while bowing in awe. That can be tough to take, but, while delighting in my playdate, I came to think about the word revision in a different way, taking poetic license with the definition.
Vision means (according to my computer New Oxford American Dictionary) “an experience of seeing someone or something in a dream or trance, or as a supernatural apparition.” That’s the definition that equates most to the way stories play out in my head. So, re-vision means going back into that trance and experiencing the story again. This weekend, I laughed with my characters and cried with their losses. I marveled at the new direction (that became much more expansive than I’d thought... leading to chopping about 150 pages and writing 125 more). And as I read through it now, I love it and I’m so glad I took the chance to shake up a bunch of words and live another story.
Quote for the Day from The Princess Bride
“You rush a miracle man, you get rotten miracles.”