Writing IS rewriting and rewriting and rewriting…ad nauseum.  When I have put a story on paper, I put it away for a day or two, even a year or two, then go back to reread it to see if it makes sense.   I inevitably find a different word or phrase I think works better in a sentence, a description that can be sharpened. It is a never-ending process. I have spoken to real authors, writers of dozens of books, and they say the same thing.  At some point you have to STOP writing. It is hard to say it is finished because you know there is something that could be illustrated better or you change your mind on the purpose of the story, even the plot. A new character pops up and works their way into the story. On and on it goes.

I recently read a book, Writing with the Master, by Anthony Vanderwarker, in which he described how he wrote his novel under the gentle and not-so-gentle guidance of his friend John Grisham. He worked for years writing his novel, Sleeping Dogs. During that time, John Grisham pointed out the weaknesses and gave him tips to make the story better. It took a full year for him just to get his outline right. Then he outlined each chapter and finally started the novel. The process was arduous, and he never gave up. After writing five or six novels over a period of time and shoving them into the back drawers of file folders, he finally had a novel that was worthy of publication.

Not since I was thirty have I thought of writing a novel. I just don’t have the patience for a long storyline. I love writing short stories and poems. They may be shorter, but it does take the same kind of effort to make a story coherent and interesting – just not the same amount of time. I have too many stories to tell to spend that much time on just one.

Characters develop from people I know or hear about. Sometimes a character in my head wants to have their story told. Often, from observation, I see or hear something that catches my attention and wants to become a story. Inspiration is all around. I live in an inspiration stew.

Finding time to write is always the challenge. I can go to my writing room, sit in a chair with pencil and paper, or at my computer, and be lost in a different world, consumed by a character, for hours on end. At least until my husband comes in to see if I’m still breathing. The cats, Sadie and Oliver, find me to remind me when it is dinnertime. Thank heaven I have them. Without my family, I can imagine I’d be a shrunken mummy sitting in a chair, poised with pencil in hand after leaving this earth without notice. Time totally disappears. Ahhh – I just thought of a story. A woman starts to write and disappears into her story, never to be found again. Well, I’ll work on it. 

Have a nice day.