An Important Also
Sunday evening, after banging my head against the crappy 4000-word draft all afternoon (and consoling myself with Knight Rider when things got too rough), and after listening to my Kincardine Scottish Pipe Band CD at least three times on repeat, and before I ate the rotten pork roast that took me out of commission all day yesterday (and/or began feeling the effects of what could be some sort of cold/flu type thing), I found the voice of the bagpipe story. (Aka "Safe Passage," aka "Calling Her Home," aka "that stupid mutter-mutter story.") I know how it sounds and I know that now that I have two scenes that are right
everything else will happily (or at least eventually) follow from there. I also know that as I write, the existing 4000 words will be deleted, overwritten or totally ignored. That's the thing about finding the real story's voice: anything written to that point becomes useless. And it doesn't matter!
Few things are quite like the thrill of finally finding the right words.
Now if only I felt like writing when I get home today, instead of curling up in my bed and trying to sleep away this dreadful yuckiness. (Ah, well. Can't have everything.)