I’m overwhelmed. While I recently mustered up the nerve to
start working on the novel again, I’ve realized I’ve still got a lot of crap
that I need to process. I mean, I’ve got
this huge chunk of unfinished work about loss—devastating loss—and before I
experienced my own devastating loss, I *thought* I knew what I was doing with
it and how I was going to write it. Then January came and knocked me sideways.
My perspective followed suit.
Not surprisingly, it took this long for me to even think
about picking it up again. It took me nearly seven months to even consider thinking
about thinking about picking it up. And now that I have, I don’t know what to
do. From a practical point of view, do I keep moving in the same direction
because I hate to see all that work wasted? Or do I toss it and start
again? I have new story to tell, that’s
the thing. I’m not sure what’s been
written in the past is the story anymore.
A few weeks ago, I started moving things around, expanded
the family. Instead of just two siblings—brother and sister—I added a few more
sisters, gave mom more presence (Yet, still no decision on the dad. Why? Not
sure if it’s the practical or emotional side of my brain that’s making that
decision. Probably a topic for another post…), more stuff to help me write what
I know.
And what I know is that close families are exceedingly
complicated organisms. They are somehow fragile and unstable and fraught as well while at the same time they are stronger and tougher and more resilient
than anything on earth.
PS: I've got you singing that song, now, don't I?
I can feel the energy about your process - I can't wait to hear more :)
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