So the goal was to have LET’S DISH out to the editor before I went back to the 9-5 in August. That was before I screwed it up totally.
As I sat at my desk today with both hands woven into my hair and tugging, my husband asked me if I was okay. Okay? Okay? I changed something in chapter one that screwed up everything in chapter nine!! How can I be okay??
But that’s not what I said. I mean the guy doesn’t actually get it, but he’s trying. Instead, what I told him was this:
I feel like I’m driving a freight train toward a bridge, except I see the bridge is out and I can’t stop the train. Then I manage it to pull it back, and even think I fix the bridge. But then I get to the next chapter and there’s that darned hole in the track again.
So the child beside me says, “Kinda like dominos, right?” Yes, he had a better grip on my dilema than I did.
It’s exactly like dominos. I have them all set up and they fell just the way they were supposed to. Except someone really liked my dominos, but wanted a few changes. Those changes caused a chain reaction, making me move all my dominos. And since I keep knocking down the whole kit and caboodle, I need to keep rebuilding it.
Here’s a hint, though. If you’re revamping a book you haven’t actually read through in two years, before you tear apart chapter one, read the damned thing again. Really. Save yourself the pain.
I wrote earlier that the husband doesn’t get it, and it’s true. He’s not a writer. But he does get that this is a job. Work. Except imagine if you went to work, put in an eight hour day, and were told that even though you worked your buns off, you weren’t getting paid for it since the work didn’t suit your employers needs. No salary for you unless ten different people like your work enough. That’s writing, baby. Man, who would voluntarily do this?
That would be me. Well, back to the self-fladuation. Chapter nine, here I come. Time to fix that damned bridge again.