Yesterday, I made a bold pronouncement on my memoir blog that I was finished with my first draft. Pfffft. Not hardly.
I was talking to Liza about it yesterday and she pointed out something it needed and she was absolutely right: it needs a heart and a soul. It has a skeleton and some guts.
And thankfully, I had a flash of inspiration about how to get those two important elements in there-- but now I have thirty more pages with chapter headings waiting to be written-- and it will no doubt end up being more than thirty pages that is eventually written.
And I am actually excited about writing it.
But I have no time to write it til this weekend. And that is driving me nuts.
But it is so exciting to be engaged in a fulfilling writing project. When I was trying to hide, ostrich-like, from the horrors of the election this week, the memoir was truly a godsend.
Today my thoughts and heart are in Denver with my wee nephew.
God protect you, Devon.
I am writing for myself and strangers. This is the only way that I can do it... Gertrude Stein
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