Inspired by my friend, Camille's post yesterday, I decided to post a picture of my own printed first draft.
This is the novel I finished last year. It's still in its rawest stage, certainly not yet meant for public consumption. It doesn't even have a title. I call it the "Patrick and Missy Story" which are the names of the main characters.
It was my intention to immerse myself in the revision process for this piece in the spring. However, as some of you may have heard me lament on Twitter several weeks ago, I've decided to set it aside for a little while longer.
It still needs to simmer. Like a tough cut of meat, I still need to break down the tendons and connective tissues that make it difficult to chew. I need it to be at that point when I slice through it, my knife will cut clean. Only then will I be able to add the other ingredients to enhance its flavors and texture to my satisfaction. After some stirring and a little more simmering, I'll have someone else take a bite out of it. That person can tell me if it still needs more ingredients to temper the over-salty taste, or more salt or pepper to correct its blandness, or tell me that I need to throw the whole thing out and start from scratch.
Currently, my knife isn't going through without a struggle. So I put the cover back on and will let it simmer some more. In the meantime, I'll try my hand at another dish... er... story.
Now, I've either made a successful attempt at melding my love for cooking and writing with this metaphor, or I've just taught you how to make pot roast.