I have always been a one woman guy. Cheating just never sat right with me, and love was hard enough. Cheating seemed like it would make it even harder, so rewriting a first draft that I loved felt like cheating. But I am learning to love it. Does that make me a bad man, but a good writer? Am I sacrificing a part of my artistic soul to the editorial gods?
Based upon the pleasure I am getting out of the rewrite of my first Giants book, I feel satisfied, and maybe a little dirty, but in no way am I cheating. That being said, this is not my first round of editing, hardly. I had already gone through the book eight times, before starting the rewrite. Kind of like going through a series of dates to find out what you truly want in a life partner.
Now, I am a hypocrite when it comes to this dating logic. It was love at first sight when I met my wife, and I was good to go the distance by the end of our first date. However, before her, there was a long chain of varied relationships and a failed marriage, so I guess maybe I’m not so hypocritical after all, just stupid.
Edits and rewrites can be like that. Trying this and that until that light shines out of your work to illuminate the vision you had when your book’s premise first fell on you like a holy ghost. That just happened to me and I had to stop and write about it. That first love for my book is back, and now like my marriage, is even better after all this time and a lot of work.
Gotta get back to work. Thanks for listening.
Stevie Wonder’s “Golden Lady” from his Innervisions album played in the background while writing this, check it out. Number 12 on the music player.
words & worlds 