Why couldn’t I just let those darn hornets sleep? I was almost finished, and then …
I’m sure this has happened to all writers. You are closing in on the end, already with one draft in the books and you’re anticipating finally closing up a project and moving on to something else.
But you, in the ever so subtle way you go about closing a book, had to leave your mind open. And you know what follows when that happens. One thought leads to the next, and before you know it you begin to question the ending or a plot point. Then a new idea slips into your mind and before you know it you are staring down the double barrel of decision.
Do I really want to re-open this plot and re-write everything I’ve already written. Just let the hornet’s sleep!
But that one annoying hornet starts flying around your drink, settling on the edge, trying to drink up a little sweetness. You swat it away, but another comes flying by, this time whipping around your ear. You hate that buzzing sound. It means anything but the finished line. It means re-writes and and pain and more time and …
You swat that hornet away from your ear, hoping it won’t come back.
But then your mind, in an onslaught of flying insect thoughts, armed with powerful stinging abilities, will not let you rest. They chase you out of your complacency, forcing you to go back to your manuscript.
Finally, you look once again at the words on the page, and you realize that the hornet’s were right. It’s not finished. There’s a better way. So the choice is simple, change it or be willing to be stung by endless stings by the writer’s best friend – an honest conscience. At that point, you know that if you really want to be the best writer that you can be – as you always say – that you must deconstruct and reconstruct again.
Once that is realized, everyone will be happier. Everyone meaning the writer and the reader.
So do I want to be known as a writer who finishes or a writer who finishes well?
All right. Now I know what I have to do. Take two.