Some writers say the blank page terrifies them, but I think I’m the opposite. The blank page is my friend, the completed, needs-to-be-worked-on-some-more manuscript my nemesis. I look at the reams and reams of text I have already written and sigh for a nice, clean open space. I suppose it’s kind of like being a cowboy stuck in Manhattan, but instead of skyscrapers all I can see are words, words, words, and I long for wide open spaces.
And yet it has to be done; I must take this intricate, tightly woven plot and pick little holes in it so that I can mend, knit, baste and restitch the whole darn thing back together, with the improvements that have been suggested to me by my agent/editor/torturer.
But… I suppose there are always parts of any job that you know are going to be a long, involved mess. You just plod through it, and when you’re done, you can be proud of the entire project and know that you really did give it your all.
I am choosing to go into this rewrite with the view that it is an opportunity… to fine tune, to make sure every word is right, to give nuance, shade and texture to every scene. And I will beat myself over the head with the keyboard until I get it!
So, with that said, here I go, riding off into the sunset wallpaper on my computer screen.





















Donna,
First of all, you’re in great company with the rewriting blues–F. Scott Fitzgerald said the art of writing is the art of rewriting. He also said he worked laboriously on his prose, which of course doesn’t show when you read his work (especially Gatsby). In my experience, the easier text is to read, the harder the author worked to get it that way. When I sit down to revise my drafts, I always tell myself: one of us is going to work hard here, the reader or the writer; and since the reader is paying me, I better step up! So anyway, good luck with your own rewrites–I’m definitely part of the writing is rewriting club!
Luv
Cleo Coyle
Comment by Cleo — January 9, 2007 @ 2:23 pm