Last year, I introduced you to the first draft of my novel. I spoke (i.e., tweeted, moaned to my fellow writing friends, cried to myself) of the difficulties I encountered with the revisions. I quickly, or not so quickly (depending on who's heard me moan), learned that none of that would help revise that story. Eventually, I put it in a box and hid it from view. I let it simmer some more.
I recently pulled out the manuscript and just finished the first pass read. I cringed a lot, but a did a fair share of nodding and smiling too. I think I'm finally ready to work on this story and bring it to the level that readers deserve.
I'm excited. It feels like I've reunited with an old friend. One I knew well enough then, but will know even better this time around. I hope we'll still enjoy each others company in the end.
It seems apt that this post goes up on the first day of spring, and that it's bright and sunny where I am. I'm taking that as a sign that things will be fresher and brighter for Patrick, Missy, and me.