Notes on a Re-Write
I have been given the opportunity by my publisher to do a second edition of my beloved book, Be True To Yourself: A Daily Guide For Teenage Girls.
But I’m on a very short deadline, just 5 weeks to get all my edits done!
Writing can be a transcendent experience, a wild dance with you and every piece of writing you ever read, with you and every writer you ever admired, with you and every daydreamy and focused thought you ever had about anything, a wild dance with you and the unnameable Ultimate.
Two days ago, I wrote for 13 hours straight, stopping only to eat out of containers while standing at the kitchen counter. When I emerged from my office that night, I had literally no recollection of what had happened. I sincerely wondered to myself, “Did I even write anything?”
Yesterday morning I woke at 4am, sat down and called to my muses, “Help me!” Instantly I felt them. This feeling was not metaphorical, but earthy and physical. They crowded together, filling my office, all looking over my shoulder, whispering in my ear, focused and committed to the task at hand. It was one of the most powerful experiences of my life, to feel that sort of connection and support simply by asking for it.
Last night I woke at 12:30am and felt a sense of hopelessness. The weight of the world on fire in so many ways. I tried to breathe myself back to sleep to no avail, so I got up and emptied the dishwasher and looked at the burning moon. I tried to write. Got a few uninspired words out. I went back to bed at 3:30am. Woke at 7am.
Today the trance has broken. My deadline is in one week. I have very little writing left to do, but these last bits are a struggle.
Writing can be transcendent and it can also be torture, a practice in surrender at every turn.