Approaching normal?

Atlanta never really quarantined for COVID, but some things shut.

After the second week of school in August, I drove home and my gas light lit up. I pulled into a gas station, but I couldn’t figure out why I never used to get low, or where I used to fill up.

It took me two days before I remembered that I used to go to the Humane Society every weekend, and I’d fill up at the gas station beside it, so I never went below half a tank. But when COVID got bad here, the Humane Society closed the campus.

This weekend, for the first time in about a year, I went back to the Humane Society. They’re not reopening yet, but they’re murmuring about it, and they had an adoption event. 

I spent time with a few dogs including Alan, a spectacular, gracious older gentleman. 

And then I filled up my tank.

Wherever you are on the planet, I hope you can start doing the things you love again, too.

In writing news, some of you have read drafts of what I’m now calling A Killer Melody and sent feedback, which I really appreciate! I’ve incorporated your thoughts, and I think the manuscript is much better for it. It’s very different than what it was in November or December.

I’m currently researching a lot about self publishing, because it’s what almost all the authors I admire are doing, and I’ve gotten advice to head that way. Like most choices, it’s both exciting and frightening. I’ll keep you updated, and thank you for all of your help!

Middles

In my earlier drafts, I thought I could just skip the middle. Who needs a middle? Isn’t that the boring part that no one reads, anyway?

But I do need a middle, for all kinds of things – the dreaded “character development” and plot complications, and lots of unintended consequences.

It turns out that I’m asking a lot of this tough little middle.

So instead of working on my middle, I’m writing this post and I’m thinking maybe in my next novel I won’t have a middle at all!

Books aren’t written

Michael Crichton was a pretty cool dude. He said this, which has been my mantra for the past few months:

“Books aren’t written – they’re rewritten. Including your own. It is one of the hardest things to accept, especially after the seventh rewrite hasn’t quite done it.”

I’m not on the seventh rewrite (yet). I think this is only the fourth, but I’m getting there. I sent my third draft to my first reader about a month ago and she told me, “It’s great, but it doesn’t have a middle.” I said, “I know, but I was hoping I could skip that part.” She said, “No. Middles are important.”

So I’ve been rewriting a middle. And once I rewrite a middle, I’ll rewrite the rest of it (again).

 

Murphy. The best rewriting companion.