Today it’s sitting at the city library and trying to finish this draft. Today it’s trying not to stress on this batch of edits, when seventy-five pages out I realize I’m changing what happens to characters in the end and need to change everything referencing this already throughout the book. I’m refining their movements and their motions and realizing that it didn’t go the way I saw, and if only I could see a little more, the last missing piece will fall into place. It’s never felt this close yet.
Today it’s wandering the library with headphones in because there is no one here under sixty and they all breathe hard through their noses. It’s looking for inspiration in the rows of shelves and learning this library doesn’t even carry a copy of Infinite Jest. Which says more about my hometown and how badly I want out. It’s texting between the fiction section and the non-fiction section with a best friend helping me edit. To figure these last points. To put it together.
Today it’s not stressing over the decision I made a week ago to drop the book I had a contract for. It’s remembering I need to send the check back and shoot a text message about work on Thursday. It’s feeling the month slipping away so goddamn quickly now. If it’s taking me this long to edit, my copyeditors will have to work like mad to make my September deadline.
It’s frustration that the internet won’t work so that I can even post this blog. It’s sitting and thinking and my mind wandering and realizing I don’t have time for that. But the book will come on its own schedule. Seven years already. Before September if it can.