ramblings from an arkansas farm girl
Dear Sunday Letter friends,
This time of year I spend time looking for the first blooms in our flower beds. Our daffodils are taking their sweet time which is probably a good thing since an arctic blast brought bone-chilling cold on Thursday with icy snow flurries that lasted all day. Those of a certain age will probably remember the Chiffon margarine commercial that ended with the reminder—it’s not nice to fool Mother Nature.
Remember?
Well, you can’t rush her either.
Dear Sunday Letter friends,
Tomorrow is the official three-year anniversary of the launch of my first book. I say first book like I have a second book. LOL. This is the power of positive thinking and possibly how fake news starts.
No seriously, I WILL have a second book come hell or high water. If you stick around, you’ll be the first to hear about it. (And be sure to subscribe to my quarterly-ish newsletter.)
As I said last week, I’ve been obsessed with editing said second book. In fact, the entire month of January has disappeared within the words of my manuscript. Words I’ve dissected, deleted, added, moved, debated, stared at until they don’t look like words at all.
The truth is I’ve found little time to blog lately. And I need to find better balance. I sure could use a Time-Turner, like the one Hermione Granger had. If anyone could loan me one for a month or so, I’d be ever so grateful. Don’t know what I’m talking about? Well, that’s just ?.Continue Reading
Dear Sunday Letter friends,
Happy cold Sunday from Northwest Arkansas! Since I wrote to you last, I’ve mostly been editing my WIP. When the banker in me says WIP, I think of a current asset, a component of inventory. The writer in me knows WIP as my current manuscript. 100,000 words that occupy my every waking (and dreaming) moment.
It’s fun, the editing. And maddening.
I consider every part of writing a book the most important part.
The first draft? Without it, the book would never exist. Every draft after the first one makes the story stronger and more succinct. But the intimate, exhausting, exhilirating editing comes when the writer debates the nuance of every single word, considering whether there’s a better choice in a sea of words.
That’s where I am now. And I’m obsessed with it.
