Just heard from my publisher in London who tells me breezily he wants a rewrite of my latest chapter.
‘Um, what bits did you feel needed a rework?’ I asked tentatively.
‘Oh just redo the whole thing. Give it another bash. It needs a fresh perspective. Could you get the new stuff to me by next Monday?”
Which reminds me why I love blogging so much. I get to write what I like.
It is gloriously hot and still here in the mountains. The birds have eaten all my basil seedlings and the dogs have dug up my little sage bush just as it was recovering from a replanting.
My neighbour is having a nervous breakdown because she has had to lie in bed for a fortnight recovering from a back op. She says her own thoughts have become a shouting match.
I wish I could go into the city and walk around art galleries. I miss looking at art and photographs and the Internet is not enough. Images of unfinished needlework found here.
I don’t know how to rewrite this damn chapter and I am unravelling at the edges. But I must sit down and just get on with it.
And I sometimes wonder if developing a certain resilience and persistence is not as crucial to sobriety as it is for writing practice. When I first went along to AA meetings, I loved and was immediately drawn to those who were gung-ho about staying sober. Those who were struggling or ambivalent were too much like the old me. I remember choosing to identify with those who put sobriety above everything else, who wanted to crawl up back into the sunlight of the spirit no matter how hard it might be. Those who were sitting around debating if they might be problem drinkers rather than alcoholics reminded me of myself aged 35, switching to white wine because red wine was the problem. Red wine made me more unladylike than white wine. White wine practically begged to be sipped and left alone for decent intervals. Red wine was sneaky and rough around the edges and gave me hangovers because of the sulphur in it.
My daily dip into As Bill Sees It, all soggy with bathwater.
“Provided we strenuously avoid turning these realistic surveys of the facts of life into unrealistic alibis for apathy or defeatism, they can be the sure foundation upon which increased emotional health and therefore spiritual progress can be built.”
Sounds like you’re going to have a busy weekend writing.
I identify with those who have what I want. I was hungry for it. And I believe in the saying to “stick with the winners”. But I also know the “losers” teach me a lot. Good luck with the rewrite.
A word you used seems so important to me in the practice of staying sober–persistence. Peeps tell us, “Don’t leave just before the miracle happens.” Many of us do (leave).
Your comparison of white vs red wine made me grin. The color did not matter, so long as it was 22% alcohol by volume–and was delivered in a gallon jar!
Mary, I will never tire of your unique writing style, and please do not EVER “rewrite” for us!
PEACE!
RE-WRITE…that is indeed a dreaded word…especially when followed by an imminent deadline. Good luck!
I think I would have been crushed by that call. The rejection as a writer must be tremendous. Good luck on the rewrite…I’m sure you’ll get it done on time.
The chapter that needs re-writing – let the unconscious do it, throw yourself into the rest of your life. Sooner or later the answer will come.