First Novel – Edits Completed

Issac Asimov was the first person who ever told me I could write. It was in a lovely rejection letter. He loved the story, he explained, but his magazine couldn’t use it. In fact, he felt no magazine would dare print it.  But, I could definitely write.

Upon reflection, I decided he was right. Still, perhaps one day the universe will grant me a subtle jest and I’ll slip it out there.  It hasn’t in the 40 years since I got that note.

My wife, I am told, informed all her friends that I could write. What she told me was that I didn’t know how to edit.  Unfortunately, she was also correct.  It’s the curse of associating with intelligent people.  They are usually right.

I blithely assumed I would breeze through the edits of my first novel in a week, two at the most. Naive doesn’t begin to cover it. However, I set myself a deadline (and extended it once when I realized just how much I needed to rewrite) and that day has arrived.

For the past few days I have been twisting the phrases to try and make them tighter, but I have finally reached the point where I have to let the baby go.

I was going to give myself time to relax before plunging into my next project, but tomorrow begins the Nanowrimo July Summer camp, and I already committed myself to it before I discovered my weakness for past tense and excessive glue words.

I have other commitments that must fit into my writing schedule so the entire process should be a first rate challenge.

I have the idea for the book, I have some notes. I go to sleep now. In the morning I shall arise like the Phoenix and blaze across the keyboard.

Reality Check…
I will sleep until the dog annoys me into getting up and feeding her. I’ll stumble around having half-formed ideas until I get my first cup of tea. Then I will try and remember where I stashed the notes on the story.

I go to dream of airships, swordplay, and beautiful women with single shot pistols…

I hope all of you have an equally pleasant evening.

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The Father’s Day Scam

Am I the only person in the world who realizes what a total sham the whole Father’s Day thing is? Isn’t it really just a giant scam to get dad to do even more work?

On Mother’s Day you give her presents, you buy her flowers, you take her out to dinner. You tell her how much she is appreciated and valued. You give her a day off from all the chores that she normally has to do all year long in appreciation for all the work she has done.

What do you give dad for Father’s Day? Tools. It’s as if you are saying, “You haven’t really ever done enough for me, but maybe if I make the work just a little easier THEN you’ll finally measure up.” So dad gets a new lawnmower, a new power saw, maybe a new screwdriver set.

What does mom do on Mother’s Day? She relaxes, and answers the telephone from well-wishers. She starts to do a few things only to have family members jump in to finish the task.

Oh yeah, and when everybody takes dad out for dinner, guess who generally pays the check?

What does dad do on Father’s Day? Well if my neighborhood is any indication, he goes out and mows the lawn in 80 degree heat. Then he comes back and uses that power saw to replace a few boards on the deck that have gotten soft. My regular Sunday private lesson canceled so he could finish painting the other half of his house. (The first half took him all day yesterday.)

And the screwdriver set? Well the lightbulb socket in the bathroom is loose, the refrigerator has a weird hum, and the car needs new plugs…

And when all that’s finished? Dad just looks down and says, “Wonder what else gets screwed?”

I could tell him, but it’s supposed to be his day…