Old friend

An old friend reappeared this weekend–can’t remember the last time we chatted, it’s been so long–and offered three pages of feedback for The Stash. Which is an accomplishment itself, as the story is only sixteen pages. Instead of the novel, I spent time emailing, editing, then remailing the draft to them. Even though I was itching to get at the novel, the experience was satisfying. Quite a bit of time passed since I put the story to bed, so I could appreciate their ideas. And they had a lot of them.

Hearing suggestions versus hearing the same words as criticism has long been a challenge for me. If I have made any strides here, it came from walking away from a story long enough to forget writing it. Generally gaining such a perspective requires an eight week separation period. In the case of the novel, because it takes indeterminate blocks of time to traverse, the mark line is scenes, not weeks. I can accept suggestions about the prior scene while actively working through the next. One thing I’m not so good at, though, is dealing with ideas about how to fix an unfinished scene. Unless I’m completely stuck. Then all comers are welcome. Usually if I have trouble wrapping up I take it as a sign I’m trying too hard and work on another manuscript until the hunger starts.

See, that’s the greatest reward about writing a novel on your own dime. When to press ahead is always at your discretion. No micromanagement in sight.

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