Every spare moment when I’m not feeding little people or unleashing my fury (productively or otherwise) over some of the incredible injustices in the world right now is a moment spent on the first rewrite of my novel.
Hours upon hours are spent in the shop-prep-feed snack cycle for the little humans, so what is sacrificed is the time on the smaller pieces and/or time spent getting dog fuzz off the floor.
But the first rewrite is almost done. This process is like Rice Krispie treats: messy and gooey and I’m working hard to put all the pieces together and also this is a terrible analogy.
In this first pass, I’m taking out what doesn’t belong and trusting my reader more. There were giant parts I skipped writing, and I’m skipping them right now as I just make sure I’m in the correct narrative voice and POV. Then before the…
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