Connecting The Dots

This morning I lingered in bed longer than I usually do. I let the scent of chili simmering in my crockpot soothe me into a state of autumn wonderment. Outside my window the leaves on the trees are changing just a little bit more each day. Inside I was calm and peaceful in my bed. Lying on my back with my hands and feet crossed. Amazed that the carpal tunnel I’ve experienced pain from over the years has decided not to punishment for not wearing my splint to bed. Overjoyed that my jaw that I’ve been clenching for the better part of a year is sitting gently in its proper place. This, my friends is a great morning for writing.

So the writing dilemma of the day involves connecting all of the parts to make a whole. Lives Lived has been a part of my life for several years now and the story has evolved over time. There are snippets of Lives Lived in stacks of papers on the table and floor and in boxes in my closet. In the past I would pull them out and try to read through them only to toss them back to their resting place in frustration. Who would ever have time to read through scene after scene, pulling out a sentence or two here and there that would improve one of the scenes I am currently working on? Well, I do.

Patience is the name of the game. Can I read the same scene written seven different ways over and over again until I merge the seven scenes into the best scene possible? Yes, and I need to be able to do it without losing my mind of pulling my hair out. There does come a time when you can get caught up in the rhythm of it all. The lead singer of Coldplay talked about this process in an interview that came out before their second album. Critics were wondering what was taking so long for the album to be released. Chris Martin said something about being caught in a place where everything sounds the same. You can tell if what you are producing is good anymore because you have been putting it together and tearing it apart for so long that you just can’t tell whether or not you should keep it or throw it out. I’ve been to that place. The first chapter of Lives Lived is one of those places where I have written, rewritten, cut parts, added lines, etc and now I have told myself that I can not even look at the darn thing until the rest of the book is finished.

So today will be spent reading. Some of the pages were written in pencil years ago so I will need my glasses to pull the words off of the page. Other pages are typed and cut into scenes. Still others are scrawled on random pieces of paper. I will make the process as comfortable as possible. I will make a cup and coffee and breakfast before I undertake this process. Then I will spend the next three and a half hours sorting through Lives Lived, then and now.