Did I just do that?

I did it again.

I thought about doing something and didn’t.

Again.

I did do it. I swear. A fictional world sprang to life in my head. Dreams of grandeur. This one random thing, this useless idea, would catch wildfire. Go viral. Right?

The New American Dream

I still didn’t do it.

Again.

Editing Away!

The writing’s been long done.

The work seemingly true.

Read it again.

It sucks.

It’s just a summary.

Not a scene.

That’s how I’m feeling now. The bruises and cuts on the war table of editing is taking its toll. I’m seeing work I wrote fifteen years ago and, although the story is there, the characters are strong, the writing isn’t.

It sure is something to look at something you created a long time ago. A personal part of you gets woven into it. It could be a sneak peek into the elusive mind, a scrap of haughtiness, or a flash of insight.

Revisiting your past from a critical view, in particular a critical editing view, does crazy things. Sometimes it feels like I’m falling back into the story. Revisiting times I’d rather not remember. Getting lost in a past part of my life that I created and that nobody else knows about.

It’s amazing.

It’s blood curdling.

It’s sharper than wit.

It’s (re)writing.

Yeah.

And it continues…