So … I spent yesterday rewriting the first seven pages of the short-story-that-was-a-novel. Or, as I prefer to call it, making the language sing.
Now that’s not a full-scale opera you understand, just one short under-rehearsed aria, but I hate clunky language. I’m a huge fan of the less-is-more-poetic school of writing, but when I’m trying to find out what the story is (although in this case I mostly know that) and what order it should be told in, the language doesn’t get enough attention. (Obviously I’m not much of a multitasker, despite the fact that I’m a woman.)
Today … I’m about to get down to doing the same to the next seven or so pages (I know, it’s late, and this post will be the absolute LAST of my MATs for the day). Then there are about another seven roughly drafted, and then who knows which of the remaining parts of the once-upon-a-time-this-was-a-novel will make it into the short story? No doubt I shall find out next week.