happy new year?

I wrote most of this post last night, then rewatched some 90s comfort television, then tried to go to sleep. A little after one in the morning, I checked the news and saw what had happened in Quebec City, and then sleep was no longer an option. I honestly thought I could not feel worse about the state of the world last night than I already did. Every day brings some new horror. I wish for the naivety of just a few hours ago.

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The end of 2016 was full of work of all kinds, including a few things I'd never done before. Lots and lots of intense writing and editing. I received a lot of requests about manuscript consultations and writing coaching, but I had to put everyone off until the new year. And I still haven't gotten back to everyone as I still don't have time to do the work, which I feel bad about. I'm thinking of putting such work on indefinite hold for the year unless I can find an established press or a writing program to work with...i.e. somebody else outsourcing manuscripts for professional edits for a set, flat fee.

The highlight of fall 2016 was teaching in the Emerging Writers Intensive program in Banff. Banff is a magical place, not just for its incredible beauty but for the special alchemy of a place dedicated to art and creativity.

My students were amazingly talented, kind, insightful, and generous. I hope they don't mind me posting this photo here from our last night in Banff. (If you're in it and hate it, let me know and I'll take it down!)

2017 has started out in such a frightening way. Like most people I know, I find the news these days to be a constant horror show, and yet I can't look away. I don't want to start writing about it now, as I'm not sure how to start...or stop.

David Sipress, The New Yorker

What else? There's never enough time to do all the things I want to do. I feel like I have a pretty good handle on time management, but it's never quite good enough. One of my resolutions for 2017 is to blog more, but this is one I have rarely been successful at fulfilling.

My other resolutions are modest. I want to have people over more often. Please, if you know me, invite yourself over. This is a link that was going around about hosting that I found inspiring:

http://www.mothering.com/articles/host-crappy-dinner-see-friends-often/

How to Host a Crappy Dinner (and See Your Friends More Often) 

by Kelley Powell 

(who, I just realized, is a novelist who lives in Ottawa. I have her book around here somewhere)

Just know that there are piles of books and magazines and toys everywhere. We desperately need to vacuum. That is just the way things are. Maybe someday it will be better.

Little L is growing a lot. Ninety per cent of photos of her are blurry as she's always moving. And she is funnier and sillier every day. I've called her a silly goose so often that now when she erupts into giggles at her own antics, she always yells out, "Goose!"

Here she is on her birthday:

Argo and Auster

Another weekend come and gone.  They are always too short.  It seems like an extra day is called for – just to squeeze in all the fun AND the needed sleep catch-up AND the little errands and cleanup that are hard to take care of during the week.

Friday night was dumplings and a movie.  We caught the late show of Argo, which I really enjoyed.  I can’t think of a movie from last year that I liked quite as much.  And I can’t believe it has taken me this long to see it.

Saturday morning was choir rehearsal and reading.   I bought this beautiful edition of the New York Trilogy a while back and I’ve finally started it now. 

I’m only a little ways in but so far I love it and it’s exactly what I want to be reading right now.  Later on Saturday, we went out for a birthday celebration where the kitchen table was loaded with liquor, the apartment floor was covered in glitter, and there was a perpetual screening of Groundhog Day in one of the bedrooms.  Very fun!  

We also had slices of this amazing rainbow jello cake.  The strangest thing…it looks just like cake, tastes just like jello. 

Sunday I met up with some writer friends to go over some stories we’d shared and enjoy A’s piping hot sticky buns with pecans.  My first trip to Point St. Charles, aka the Point.  For once, I’m going to try and revise my story while I still have all the feedback fresh in my mind. 

2012 round-up, part two

The second half of my big 2012 update.  It was a year of big changes, with editing squeezed in everywhere else.

The second half of 2012 started with the culmination of what dominated the first half: the wedding!  I was so happy with how it went, and I still can’t believe the weather cooperated.  (There had been storms looming for days, and even the forecast that morning called for thunderstorms.)  I love the rain, but all the decorations were planned for sunshine.

I was also really happy about how well everything came together in just 13 weeks.  It’s too bad this kind of major event planning isn’t something you can put on a resumé!   I had lots (and lots) of help, of course, especially at the end, but I still view it not only as a truly wonderful, magical day with friends and family…but as a day I’m really proud of, too.  I had so much fun, and I think our guests did, too, and everything ended up looking exactly as I’d dreamed it. 

A very small sampling of, oh, millions of beautiful pics from the day.  These ones are all by our  wildly talented photographer Dallas Curow, though I have many favourites that were taken by friends and family, too.

 

 

2012 round-up, part one

So much happened this year that I wanted to write about it.  Looking through my photos, I was overwhelmed by just how MUCH happened.  In a way, I'm not surprised, looking back over these blog entries, to read me writing over and over again about how busy I felt.  I'm also not surprised by the long stretches of silence.  Blogging definitely fell by the wayside for part of the year. 

I remember the energy and enthusiasm I was feeling last January.   I was full of ideas and eager to get started, but I knew I still had to finally start editing my novel based on the notes I'd received on January 20th.  But I was postponing.  And the day I vowed to finally start (right here on the blog!) I ended up falling and breaking my wrist.  

It hurt a lot, and I wish it hadn't happened, but one of the upsides was the way I discovered (though, really, I already knew) how much I could rely on my boyfriend (now husband).  He took care of me when I needed it, and even when I resisted it, and when I was probably less than 100% delightful to be around. 

I spent most of my birthday at the orthopedic clinic, where I think I ended up crying because I really needed to get a form filled out to send to HR to accommodate my time off of work.  (Eventually, I did manage to get the form, in one of many subsequent visits.)   

Cast, cake, and candles.

writing: "considerably less magic" (more work)

This is exactly, exactly how I feel about writing in the morning.  I almost never have the chance to do this anymore, and I certainly can't afford to get too precious about when or how I get my writing done, but whenever I have a day off, this is what I like to do.  No conversation, no jarring interaction with the world outside my head. There is definitely a spell that can be broken in travelling from that liminal dreaming space to the wide awake world of other people.

A conversation between George Saunders and his editor on Slate that seems to me to be a great illustration of how the best editor-writer relationships can work, as well as a pretty fascinating peek at how a Saunders story comes together (including showing his editor all the edited-down cut parts). 

An interview with Zadie Smith on the Rumpus, which is partially a follow-up to her amazing short piece on joy in the NYRB.  (In her interview with the Rumpus, she mentions she only writes short, memoir-like pieces like this about once every ten years, so it's worth checking out.)

Some remarks from the Rumpus interview that struck a chord:

"I think constant feedback is not a very healthy thing for a writer, one way or another." 

 "...reading is a magic thing. But writing, I actually feel, is considerably less magic. It’s a lot of work and a lot of daily grind, where reading is a true pleasure."

I guess that makes a novel a sleight-of-hand that only takes 5-7 years to master..?

holiday winding down

I've been a little quieter here than I'd planned, partially due to a bad cold that snuck up right on time for the start of my vacation.  Boohoo.  It hit my husband, too.  But it was a good excuse for staying inside and watching movies and reading and sleeping in and all those other things that are a good part of a vacation, too.  

There was some frivolity.

Orange and white chevron and striped nails.

There was a very necessary haircut.


      

    







There were page proofs to review.

Commas to move and chocolates to eat..

But probably the most exciting things I've managed to do on this vacation is work on a new short story.    I'd love to finish it before the new year really takes hold.


You also may have heard that we got a record snowfall in Montreal.  

It helped encouraged the hibernation.

So I'm off to scribble down some resolutions.  How about you?

The "Next Big Thing" thing

Ariel at The Jane Day Reader kindly tagged me for this blog meme that has been going around everywhere, and since my novel is technically still in progress (the page proofs arrive Monday….wheeeee), I answered these questions about it.  This was fun to do, though, so I think when the book actually comes out, I might take this down and do it again for one of my other in-progress projects.  (Which I fondly imagine I’ll be further along in by then…)  It is epically long, though…so you’ve been warned.

1.   What is the working title of your book?

The working (and indeed, the actual) title of the book is Bone and Bread.
 
2.   Where did the idea for the book come from?

The novel grew out of a then-unpublished short story that was later published in my collection Mother Superior.  I wanted to start a novel and this particular story, which kept growing and growing, seemed a natural choice.  I felt like I already knew a lot about the characters and their world and their backstories, and I wanted to know what would happen to them.  It’s also the story that people ask me about the most often --- usually to complain that they wanted to know how things turn out for the sisters.  (As complaints go, it’s a pretty gratifying one...especially now that I have an answer in the form of a novel.) 

3.   What genre does your book fall under?
 
I would call it literary fiction, though I’m starting to realize that this is not necessarily a recognizable genre to the general reading public.  So…fiction!  Sometimes when people want more information than this, I say “family drama” (?), but I don’t think that’s really a proper genre either.  I guess, technically, I have three generations of characters so maybe I could push it and say "family saga," but since it is all set in contemporary or close-to-contemporary Montreal and Ottawa, I probably can’t get away with that either.  Let’s go with fiction. 
 
4.  Which actors would you choose to play your characters in a movie rendition?
 
This was super fun to think about!  Maybe the girl who plays Zooey Dechanel’s best friend, Cece, in the New Girl?   

Hannah Simone as Sadhana?

The internet tells me her name is Hannah Simone.  I could definitely see her as Sadhana.  Oh, and Hannah Simone is Canadian!  Awesome.  And the amazing Lisa Ray could be Beena: 

Lisa Ray as Beena?

It was challenging to find a photo of Lisa Ray where she doesn’t look like a complete goddess (even the ones where she’s recovering from cancer), but this one is a passable take on Beena (not that Beena isn’t pretty — she is — but her self-image is not the best and she’s not the least bit glamorous).   And not that this picture isn't beautiful, too...it's just a little less va-va-va-voom.
 
Both of these Canadian actresses are of mixed origin, too.  Coincidence?  Beauties! 
 
Of course, a lot of the book depicts their childhood and adolescence, so some child actors would have to be involved, too.
 
I would choose Sarah Polley to play Mama in the early section of the novel.  She radiates the right kind of pale luminosity and humour and depth and preternatural wisdom. (Well, she does!)
 

Sarah Polley as Mama?

Mama is supposed to have reddish hair rather than blonde, so I chose a pic where Polley's hair is on the darker side.

For the male characters in the novel — Papa, Uncle, Ravi, Quinn, Evan — I’m really not sure.  Aaaaand...I’ve probably gone on about this long enough.
 
5.   What is the one-sentence synopsis of your book?
 
Trying to make sense of her sister’s sudden death at 32 from complications of anorexia, Beena Singh returns to Montreal with her teenage son Quinn in order to delve into the history of their unusual upbringings. 

Oh my gosh, that was hard -- and it leaves so much out.

6.   Will your book be self-published or represented by an agency?
 
This book was represented by my agent, who placed it (to my great, ongoing delight) with House of Anansi.
 
7.   How long did it take you to write the first draft of your manuscript?
 
I shudder to calculate this, as it feels like I have been working on this novel forever.  I technically started the novel at Banff in May 2007, and I finished a first draft in April 2010.  Three years!!  But my short story collection came out in 2008, so I didn’t end up spending that much time in 2008 working on it.  So…somewhere between two and three years.  I should also say that I also radically changed and reorganized the novel from what it looked like in that draft. The core of the story has never changed, but I have written (and discarded!) a lot of extraneous material.  

It was interesting for me to realize that the final version of the novel is very, very close to what I had originally planned in a notebook in my residence room in Banff. 
 
8.  What other books would you compare this story to within your genre?

I think it would probably be safer to trust this assessment coming from somebody else.  There is so much that I’ve tried to put into the novel, but I’ll have to wait and see what readers are able to take away from it.  I know the kinds of books I would like it to resemble, and those are ones where the author’s vision is wise and compassionate and the characters are deeply human and believable.  The Birth House by Ami McKay, Annabel by Kathleen Winter, and The Girls by Lori Lansens are three such books that come to mind.   
 
I don’t know if it is at all similar to these books, and I certainly wouldn’t presume to say so, but some of the novels I was reading at different points before and during writing it included Marilynne Robinson’s Housekeeping, Barbara Gowdy’s The Romantic, Catherine Bush’s Claire’s Head, and Michael Winter’s The Architects Are Here.
 
9.  Who or what inspired you to write this book?
 
In terms of where the original short story started, I think it began with the realization that both anorexia and pregnancy interrupt menstruation, and that struck me as an interesting parallel: in one case, you have growth and life — and in the other, it is a matter of shrinking and death.  Right away, I could see these two sisters in my mind’s eye: one getting bigger and one getting smaller.  The first line of the short story --  My sister and I stopped bleeding at the same time -- popped into my head and I picked up my notebook and started writing. 
 
10.  What else about your book might pique the reader’s interest?
 
Well, I tried to keep in mind that I wanted to write the sort of book that I like to read.  There is some mystery and suspense, as well as (what I hope is) a nuanced portrayal of sisterhood and parenthood.  I also like to think it has something to offer on the subject of families.  There are a lot of families out there that don’t look like the so-called norm.  In fact, I think there are far fewer “normal” families out there than we’re used to imagining.  The ones that have been passing as normal are full of secrets and repression and estrangement.  This is certainly true in my own experience, at least.
 
The novel is set in contemporary Montreal and Ottawa, so I think that for Montrealers or Ottawans or even for people who just hold these cities in their hearts, this might be an extra dimension in which the novel can be enjoyed.  I always like seeing the places I live reflected in the books I read.

The meme charges me to tag more people to do it, and it was a challenge to find people who haven't done it yet.  But here goes: Celeste at Celeste Parr's My (Beat)ing Heart, Teri at Bibiliographic, Alice at rapunzel's hair, and Anita at Henrietta & Me.  If you'd like to do it, too, tag yourself in the comments!  (And if I've tagged you and you don't want to do it, well, that's okay, too.)

***

Rules of the Next Big Thing

• Use this format for your post
• Answer the ten questions about your current WIP (work in progress)
• Tag five other writers/bloggers and add their links so we can hop over and meet them. 

Ten Interview Questions for the Next Big Thing:

1. What is the working title of your book?
2. Where did the idea for the book come from?
3. What genre does your book fall under?
4. Which actors would you choose to play your characters in a movie rendition?
5. What is the one-sentence synopsis of your book?
6. Will your book be self-published or represented by an agency?
7. How long did it take you to write the first draft of your manuscript?
8. What other books would you compare this story to within your genre?
9. Who or what inspired you to write this book?
10. What else about your book might pique the reader’s interest?

Does editing make you a better writer?

Editing is one of the few jobs where I think maybe I could do that.  Actually, I think that about lots of jobs, but it’s quickly followed by ummm no, I wouldn’t want to.  (And I really do try not to go around saying or even thinking this because, let's face it, writing has to be the #1 profession where loads of people think that they can do it and feel compelled to tell you about it.  So I conclude that no matter what my feelings are about my abilities, I  probably have no idea what I'm talking about when it comes to what other people do for a living....) 

Nevertheless, given my editing aspirations, I was really excited and charged with a special feeling of responsibility when a friend  kindly asked me to take a look at her novel draft.  (“Allowed me” might be more accurate, given that there had been some pleading on my part to let me read it.)  She had very generously and rapidly and, most importantly, usefully given me notes on my own draft during my second-last revision, and I felt all the gravity of wanting to be as useful to her as she was to me.

And was I?  I hope so.  I’m a great admirer of her writing, so I knew that any comments I might have — if, indeed, I could come up with any at all — would probably have to do with structure or plot.  If you’ve been reading my blog for awhile (maybe…I can’t remember how much I might have ranted about it here) or have heard me lament about the process of writing my own novel, you’ll know that neither one is exactly my strong suit.  Not yet.

But I think this is something I’d like to do.  Editing.  I feel like I’m good at it, or I can be, when I can get inside a story.  And of course, half of writing, my own writing, I mean, is editing, too.   

I’ve edited things for people before.  I’ve taught creative writing, and I think I’m an okay instructor once I get past the stomach butterflies of speaking in front of a group.  It's true that sometimes I’ve found it a little hard in workshops I’ve been leading or participating in when it came time to giving comments on manuscripts that were very far removed from my own kind of writing (things in totally different genres or modes) or on things that seem almost beyond help (at least, in my point of view).  It’s not very constructive to say, Well, I’d start with the last word, hit the backspace key, and keep going until you hit the first word.  It's rare, but sometimes a very small part of me wants to say this.  But of course there’s always a way to improve something, even if it means keeping the idea and starting over with it from scratch.  

But will editing someone else’s work make you a better writer?  Or teaching craft?  I can only think that it will.  These are important hours logged with one’s mind and pen to the fiction grindstone. 

And yet.  What may be easy to see in someone else’s words can remain obscure in your own...I think we know this to be true.  And what could be worse than a little extra false confidence?  (Some false confidence is, I think, necessary for the basic act of writing at all.)  Or even the reverse: a more heightened awareness of the potential pitfalls?  Most of us are already too well aware of them, anyway — clichés littering the page, pet words creeping in again and again.  And whoops.  There goes the necessary false confidence.

So I'm not quite sure.  I think that editing and teaching must make you a better editor and teacher.  But when it comes to writing, I suspect we're all always in the same boat. 

21 inches - when bigger is better

I’ve a handful of blog posts in draft form – things I want to write about and need to write about, but first I want to tell you about what right now feels like.

I finally finished going over my copyedits, sending them in late on Monday.  This involved staying at the day job until after midnight (ick) to make use of my much-larger screen.  My 11-inch Macbook air is the best computer I can imagine, but I knew the 21-inch screen at work would make reviewing tracked changes in the margins that much easier.  Using the latest version of Microsoft Word rather than Word for Mac 2004 sped things up considerably, too.  The document file for my novel is so large that switching back and forth between versions on my Mac kept forcing the whole thing to slowly repaginate, eliciting the dread spinning beach ball a little too often for comfort. 

Cubicle Christmas decorations – it's an office tradition I could do without, but I claim all the little stuff while everyone else gravitates to the larger angels and poinsettias. 

Editing at home is much more comfortable:

Pretty much my writing desk.

Last night I celebrated the end of editing by actually cooking a meal (I don’t want to tell you how long it has been), knitting (making progress now, but some previous mistakes and a possible lack of wool have made the project extremely dubious at this point…not sure what to do), and a little TV.

The novelty of blue potatoes:

Tri-colour potatoes awaiting their fate

Salad!  Arugula, chickpeas, feta.  Mmmm:

Red wine vinegar -- a great vinegar or the greatest vinegar?

I wanted to paint my nails, but I ran out of time.  But here's a picture of the colour I just stripped off.  I’ll post the name when I get home and check, but it’s from that same new L’Oreal colour riche line I mentioned before as being surprisingly heavy duty.  Sadly, this shade didn’t perform to the same level as the turquoise.  Maybe I just really didn’t use my hands for anything that other week..?  Still, it’s a nice blue.  Come to think of it, shades of blue have been my favourite colours for nail polish since high school. 

Deep blue l'Oreal nails.

Oh, and a drugstore display of Essie nail polish that got me pretty excited:

 I managed not to buy any but couldn't resist snapping a photo.

Ahhhh.  I have so much I want to write, and so many projects I want to get started on!  I need to get time back on my side...

what I want right now

I’ve sent in my final assignment and tonight I give my final presentation in my night class.  I’ve learned a few things…things I’m not sure I’ll ever use in a career context, but that’s okay.  But most importantly – no more homework!  I’d forgotten (how could I?) how unpleasant it is to have things always hanging over me, things that I really “ought” to be doing.  Because of course I already have too many of those self-appointed things already, and more important ones.  I really only like the ones I choose, and god knows, writing fiction is enough homework for anyone.  (But just in case I ever need to, I can tell you all about the challenges faced by internal communications programs and the importance of effective public relations for successful organizations...)  

The loveliest thank-you flowers

After tonight, my next step is to finish reviewing my copy edits for Bone and Bread.  Then I’m going to embrace the holidays as fully as I know how.  I want to see my friends.  I want to track down and watch the movies Tiny Furniture and Young Adult (a natural double feature, I suspect). I want to start making my way through the piles of books I’ve bought lately and start sharing reading lists on Goodreads.  I want to catch up on all the blogs I read.  I want to find new music and listen to the albums people have shared with me.  I want to hang out with my family.  I want to cook and bake.  I want to sit and drink tea.  I want to make plans for the new year.  (I’ve got a couple really good ones brewing, one in connection with, I hope, my knitting circle.)  

What do you want?

Editing as self-knowledge (or how many times can you use thrall in a novel?)

I am not one of those people who dislike being edited.  As long as the editor knows what she's doing (and yes, I am still shuddering from memories of enforced peer-editing sessions in high school and even university....ugh), it's an essential part of the process.  Problems that have persisted for months can be prodded and untangled due to an editor's ability to get to the root of the problem.  It's not that writers can't edit their own work (we spend at least half of our writing time doing this, if not more), but at a certain point, I feel like I've taken a text as far as I can, and nothing short of time (to acquire fresh eyes) or another person's point of view can help me.

It's actually a really joyous process to have someone clear-sightedly pinpoint the problems in your text and help you find a way to fix them.  It is a privilege and a relief to have someone enter into that kind of relationship with what you've created.  That being said, editing leaves you totally exposed, and it is really humbling to have all your mistakes pointed out.  But humility is a good thing.  

It's also really informative.  It turns out I have some vocabulary quirks, most of which I hadn't noticed before:

I use for as a conjunction a lot.

I overuse the word clad.  (But it's so succinct!)

I tread on the razor’s edge of overuse when it comes to hearken, conjure, thrall, and foray.  (Good thing I’m not writing about, I don't know... Victorian magicians or something.  Then I’d really be in trouble.)

It’s an interesting question (er, to a writer): how many times do you think you can use the word foray in a 437-page novel?  I had three but cut one after my editor suggested it was a very noticeable sort of word.  (Really?  Okay.)  Then again, I lost sleep over my own two thralls, which I ended up leaving in.  I think part of me was so enamoured with those particular sentences (sometimes a bad sign) I worried everyone else would notice --- but I don’t think they will.

What are your personal danger words, writers?  Or words that make you raise an eyebrow when you see them in someone else's book?  I know that I have a hate-on for most highly specific medical terms unless they appear in a hospital context.

celebrate!

So I sent in the latest version of my novel draft! 

On the outside, an unshowered writer in sweatpants looking mildly pleased. On the inside: this!

Previous post-editing celebrations have included getting tipsy and watching installations of the Twilight saga (which, as far as I can tell, is the exact opposite of editing a novel), but last night I increased the crazy-partying-quotient (hold your hats) by eagerly unpacking a moving box and putting things away.  The more decadent part of the celebration was based around having a glass of wine along with a leisurely Lush-bubble-bar-bath and the latest issue of the Walrus, but it turns out the hot water tank at the new chez nous was not quite up to the task.  The bath was lukewarm and therefore brief.

Brief, too, is this period of celebration, alas.  I have a freelance piece due tomorrow (mostly completed yesterday, but I still have 100 words to cut), and an essay to shorten before mid-month.   And wedding thank-you notes to write.   And yet more boxes to unpack. 

But as my friend E. pointed out today when we ran into each other: there is rarely a moment when life is fully settled.  There are always things to be done, changes taking place, and life is still happening in the meantime. 

So…let’s not wait for things to be perfect before we dive in. 

Editing is hard

A few things:

Editing is hard.  (In this case, I mean editing/cutting/rewriting one's own work in response to notes, both specific and general, from an editor.)  Not because editing is inherently difficult or because I dislike doing it or because don't think my work requires it.  No.  Actually, I think the challenges I am facing right now with Bone and Bread are trifoliate*:

• Once your words have taken a particular form that has been stable for, I don't know, years and years, and you've read them a hundred times, they just start to sound right that way...and it certainly doesn't mean that they're better that way or that they shouldn't be changed...it only makes it hard to imagine how. 

• Editing tends to involve moving around from problem to problem, which is a different kind of process from writing, where you are generally moving forward or through or at least thinking about a whole scene a little more slowly or singularly....and slow thinking tends to produce answers to problems.  It is harder to solve something immediately when you've only just arrived on the page ready to tackle it.

• Maybe it's due to this jumping from note to note and getting stumped on a problem and not knowing whether to linger until it's fixed or press forward unto the end, but this kind of editing makes it much harder for me to achieve momentum and focus.  

So that's why it's hard.  But it does feel better to complain!

As penance for whining, here is a picture of a dog dressed up as two dogs carrying a present:

So clever and cute!

The unpacking continues, even though it both should (it would be great to get everything in order!) and shouldn't (I should really be spending every minute editing).  Most of the boxes are gone, although disorder persists in  the closets.  I also found time the other night to paint my nails with a colour that is still one of my go-to shades after picking it up last year:  Chinchilly by Essie.  Essie describes it as a "sleek granite gray" (yes, they spell it that way), but I find it has some warm, light mauvey-brown tones in it, too. 

Chinchilly nails on one of our new cushions.

ALSO...and forgive the non sequitur...children really do give one hope for the world.  It turns out that this is one of those clichés that also happens to be profoundly true.  People in general give me hope, but I'm always caught off guard by courage and openness and grace when they are displayed by someone very young. 

*because it is my blog and because it is midnight and because most of my time is spent making judicious word choices, I am letting this word stand, since it has charmed me by appearing out of nowhere.  Trifoliate will have have its day in the sun!  Trust me, though, that my novel is not full of this kind of word, nor, I hope, many similar discursions...then my editing would be difficult indeed

something new

There has been such a flurry of activity in my little corner of the world that I can only conclude that some of the persistence has paid off.

There was packing (and now unpacking), moving, and of course this:

 

Then there was travelling and reading and relaxing, and now, now there is the editing.  I started working on the manuscript again this weekend, and I was encouraged by the fact that there was no cringing or recoiling from what I found on the page.  (Sometimes I find that when I work in great, deadline-induced bursts it is followed by some sort of amnesia…I am usually half-surprised to find just what it is I’ve written.)  Of course, I may start to feel differently as I move deeper into the novel, but just now I am encouraged, relieved, and excited to do the work.