Surgical Precision

Got my first batch of edited chapters back this week.  My editor is great.  Extremely fair and open to my work.  She is also forced to be my teacher, to a great degree, because the sort of book that I'm working on has to be written to the publisher's exact specifications.  It's part of a series, all of which follow an identical format.

So there *may* be some rewriting in my immediate future.  Like, today, immediate.

I'm working really hard, but only with my brain.  It's so weird - I stand up from my desk and it's like my body has completely forgotten what it's supposed to do, while my brain is completely exhausted and refuses to go.

I keep finding myself in rooms that aren't where my computer is, wondering what I went in there for.  The exception to this is of course, the Laundry Room, where Mount Washmore is always waiting for me.  I think I go in there just because I know that when I find myself there, I will remember what I'm meant to do.  There may be a cognition delay, but at least in there, it comes back to me.

Other rooms are far more ambiguous.  I just noticed myself standing in the bedroom, gazing longingly at the bed and thinking that maybe a nap would be in order.  And then I remembered that the reason I had gone there was to find a book I need to reference.  For a sentence I think I have been writing for three days.  Or ten minutes - I'm not sure which.

Editing is hard, because its basic premise is that what has been done so far is in some way lacking, insufficient, off-base or just plain wrong.  What a bizarrely unpleasant sieve to force one's work through.  I am fortunately able to separate my personal self from my creative products (usually), but it's still not as much fun as some other parts of the process.  Like the knitting part.  Or the designing part.  Or the seeing my book in the bookstore part.

I am reminding myself that if it were easy, then everybody would do it.  But I think it's time for a little self-bribery.  As soon as I get this chapter finished, I'm taking a course of retail therapy.  I think there might be a pair of shoes out there someplace with my name on it.