yep. First I went over the first two pages, which each have three sentences on them, and I struggled with getting the exact right wording, which I know is stupid, because I shouldn't be focusing on that yet. Why do the first two pages, each only have 3 sentences on them? That is just the way it is, and I am not going anywhere near trying to change that. (oh my God, these blueberries are miserably sour. No, that isn't one of the sentences, that is my breakfast.). Actually I like it that way, the pages and sentences, it sets up the rhythm and the echoes.
I then, did the first paragraph (and that is as far as I got). All the parts already existed, I was just gluing them together. But of course, I became agitated. There was too much symbolism in it, or rather too much metaphor. It had all the subtlety of an elephant covered in bells, shaking and stomping, on hundreds of squeaky rubber duckies, and bicycle horns. Not really the feeling I was going for. But I didn't write it as metaphor, I wrote it as actual, as what I saw, it is only now when I read the words, that they mean more. "this, is the whole story, you are telling me everything, no need to go on and write the rest of it now, why bother" the annoying voice, chatters on, in my head.
"It is just rain!" I say back. " It is raining, and this is how the story always began, and it was always spring, and you know it". "Should I make it not rain? Not be this time of year? No, because it is important to the story, so shut up".
I see it everywhere now, the repeats, the echoes, the metaphors. I read over something, and it seems to be saying more than it did before. Of course in stories these can be good things to have, in beautiful subtle meaningful ways, but I didn't put them in there, they are just there, sneaky, and all over the place. I ask myself why this happens, or that and all of sudden the explanation is because this means this, and this represents that, and I am just dumbfounded and "oh" "really?" "has it always?" "because I didn't know". Maybe this is just the trouble with working on something for 10 years, maybe this sort of thing is just bound to happen. (it collects debris and dust and stuff, gets layered on it, over the years)
I wont be able to take them out now, or make them softer. I will just have to work on the draft as the ideas already are, (otherwise I wont move forward at all). I can rework them later. And the story is Echo, and it is filled with them, echo, echo echo. And though I do worry that some may feel contrived, none of them are.
alright, so go exercise now, because, you want to drag Cheese outside later, and you need to do yard work, and, I have set up a huge goal for you today, are you ready for it? ONE, more paragraph! Whew, I know such a big goal, I hope you can handle it.
Don't obsess, make progress!!!!!
honestly woman, sometimes I wonder why God gave me you to work with. Filled me with visions of beautiful cathedrals, and gave me a person who can't measure, lift, or design, can't sculpt or carry. One who is not architect, engineer, or builder. Gave me a mud pie maker to work with.
Why?
Because mud pie makers are dreamers?
Is the only answer I can think of.
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