I enjoy referring to myself as a recreational novelist. Some people run intense distances for fun. Others invest time in knitting miles of scarves. My spare moments are occupied with stories.
I’ve become adept at protecting my writing time – early mornings before the house awakes. That time of quiet and coffee, with the gently brightening horizon and the permission to explore my own thoughts for their own purposes, is restorative like nothing else.
Lately, I’ve been breathing life into an old NANOWRIMO first draft that is still my favorite story concept, though it’s a couple of years stale. I’m in the re-reading, note-taking stage, and the joyful truth is this:
Some pieces of this story are extremely enjoyable to read.
I am motivated to edit and rewrite and rework this project primarily because I want to read the truth about this little scenario. It’s not a big or important piece of literary fiction. It’s not bound for greatness – or in all likelihood, publication.
But it is indescribably enjoyable to revisit this work after so much time has lapsed and greet characters that are just as lively on the page – admittedly, only in a few specific sections – as they are in my head.
Cheers to a second draft by September (a girl’s gotta have goals, right)!