At times, there is so much going on around me that it’s difficult to concentrate on whatever book I’m currently writing. I have found that it’s better to step away than fight for focus. If a break is only a few days, it’s easy to get back into my story. If it stretches into several weeks – as it did recently – I need to spend some time looking at notes and reading what I’ve written to re-immerse myself. I’m surprised at the variety of reactions.
I am not surprised that I like some parts of my work better
than others. This is a rough draft after
all. I find sections that make me think
I might have talent, and then I find other sections that make me wonder if I
even know what talent is.
What surprises me is how well I do or do not remember the
pages. Some words trigger a memory of
exactly how long I stared at them before I could think of a good next
line. Some make me remember what I almost
wrote instead. I usually find anywhere
from a paragraph to a few pages that I remember writing so clearly that I know
where I was, why I was there and the question someone interrupted me to
ask. The associations are so embedded in
the text I can picture myself writing those words.
I also find equally long sections that I do not remember
writing. The words aren’t even
familiar. I could believe someone else
borrowed the notebook and continued my story without me if I didn’t recognize
the handwriting. It’s weird because I’m
not that old.
One thing that is never a surprise is the length of what I’ve
written. I may have forgotten some details,
and I may need to check which plot points I’ve hit, but I always remember how
much work I still need to do on that book.
Now I need to get back to it.