A Blue Pencil Year

I think I said it before. My goal for the year was editing and not just my writing. Truly, I have lived up to that goal. I have polished, modified, reworked and condensed little by little my garden, my office, the organization of my desk, including my computer. Right now, I’m in the middle of cleaning out my utility cabinet in my office. My office looks like a tornado hit.

I still have a long, long way to go, but I see how much the work has improved my writing and my life. I’ve worked hard on the edits to Ella and the Tie-down Man, even to the extent of sending it out and then, giving it another look. Something was bothering me, nagging at my sense of accomplishment.

That second look has proven such a good call; I’d almost like to say it was providence. It’s delayed me getting the novel back out there, but not by much. As I put in place the finishing, polishing changes I feel a ton better. Not to say I’m not still anxious and wary of the whole process, but whether it’s published or not, I can confidently say it was the best I could make it.

And that’s really the key, for me. I’m not stupid, blind, or unaware of the difficulties of being published in this day and climate. My chances suck. But, see, I can take suck, I can ‘fail’, if I’m certain I did all I could. Earlier this year, I just didn’t feel that. Something just kept nagging at me. Nothing concrete, nothing I could put my finger on, but, listen: the publishing world (really, a whole lot of ‘worlds’) are going through a kind of revolution. There is change afoot. The internet has changed everything, some in a big way, some small. And how I fit in is anyone’s guess.

The act of reading has changed. We’ve been hearing the doom drumbeat about the paperback books and just hearing it saddens me. I was reading paperbacks during the paperbacks hey days. I have a stored box of old paperbacks if I open and take a whiff of the dried-out, yellowing pages, it take me back to shopping trips with my dad when I was a teenager, shopping trips with my mom, my babies in tow, stay-up-all-night books (Thanks, Lavyrle Spencer)I just couldn’t put down, books that helped me stay awake while I put up the last batch of green beans, books that kept me company as my husband traveled on his job. I couldn’t have bought the books I did, if they hadn’t been in paperback.

And the act of writing has changed since I first started writing in earnest. I’m one of those writers who always knew I was born a writer. I have always written poems, stories. Always fed on words. But translating that or even keeping up with sending your work out and publishing—that’s another story. A challenge. First, after, raising my kids, (although I wrote every day as my kids came along and grew) I had to catch up with the new world and I had to do it by DIY. That was the only option at the time. The romance genre was in constant flux. It still is.

Truth of it is. I really just want to write. The idea of all the schmoozing, promoting, online presence overwhelms me. In fact, it scared the bejesus out of me for more reasons than I’m shy. It also scares, worries and overwhelms me when I think of actually selling one of my novels and dealing with my own life's little reality. Oh, believe me it is a reality not so different than anyone elses. I’m a mother with adult children struggling with the new economic world. I’m a grandmother, a sister, a friend and I’m the primary caregiver to a ninety-four year parent. Each year I’m spending more time caring for her needs and less time on my writing. No pity party, just the reality of what is right now. But, and this is a big but, the writing keeps me sane, less stressed, less bogged down in the caregiving. It’s the thing I do for me.

Like I've said so many times, I feel like the parts of my life are not compatible. Yet, I can’t stop any of it, nor do I want to. That reality has always caused me worry and no little bit of stress. I tell myself it will all work out. That it is really just me calling the shots. I write and I don’t have to do anything more than that, even if I’m eventually published.

So, editing is a bit of getting rid of the things that no longer work, isn’t it? Books you’ve read and won’t again, blank floppy disks, old cable cords and worries. Editing it all, make it what you want it to be, including your life.

Then, do it all again the next day.