I’m in one of those “funks”, as 1950s girls’ books used to call them – a mental fuzz, blur, mash or mess where I can’t see the woods for the trees or the good for the bad. Yes, it’s Draft Two time.
The story so far: draft 1: too many pages of too much talk (Elvis’s “a little less conversation, a little more action” should be on a loop in my cave as I write); some good lines; the odd punchy scene. But a goodly hunk of stone to carve – an OK-ish start.
Draft 2, phase 1: scissors! Brilliant! Really cathartic, really incisive, very energising.
And then, today, phase 2 begins: trying to glue things together. No; scrap that – trying to make glue. And worrying I might have murdered too many horses in the process. I’m desperately hoping that inspiration, coherence and wit will all jump on me tomorrow, and then from me onto the page, while I still have super-husband doing the easter holiday baby-care and giving me space and time to work…..