Thursday, June 07, 2007

Back to the book

Finally, I started work on the novel again. It's been two and a half weeks and I was appalled at how much detail I'd forgotten. I had to reread everything in order to get back into the characters and pick up the story. The good thing about this is that the novel is better than I thought. I haven't been allowing myself to read over anything because I like revising so much better than writing the first draft; it's very easy for me to get stuck on fixing one or two sentences for an hour, but then I'd never get any of the rest of the novel done. What this means, though, is that I was afraid that what I'd written so far was terrible, and because I wouldn't let myself read through it I had no way to tell until today.

The bad news is that I only got four pages done. This is because I was putting the finishing touches on Autumn Sky Poetry so I could send out the DRAFT to my contributors. And also I had to clean the bathroom. During which I cut my finger. This made typing very painful, so I had to go slower. Thus: four pages instead of fifteen. Oh well. That's it for today. Gotta get a bicycle ride in before I go insane. It's been two days and already my legs are freaking out from the inaction.

2 comments:

Poetry said...

4 June 2007



After the storm, my mine cleared.


And a high wind arose and blew the tropics north.




++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++



running quartz crystals through a blender.

sand through your engines.

bubble in your bays.

estuaries reaching out toward forbidden seas...

sand through your eyes.









%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%




5 June 2007




Calm as baby's breath


as peaceful as the storm's eye


Clouds spread and drawn with rough strokes of stratospheric winds


a warm and windy tropical day.





======================================




7 June 2007


Black water at dusk.

Lighting on the horizon.


Warm winds coming in across the darkening waters.


A flash of white wings as an egret takes flight.


And Thunder like God clearing his throat.

Christine Klocek-Lim said...

Poetry, thanks for stopping by.