The Messy Middle
This week, my manuscript and this baby bird appear to be in very similar stages of development—alive, promising, slightly wild-haired, and not yet ready for flight. The first draft of Honey For What Hurts is officially finished, which sounds much more graceful than the reality of it. At the moment, the manuscript is being poked,…
This week, my manuscript and this baby bird appear to be in very similar stages of development—alive, promising, slightly wild-haired, and not yet ready for flight.
The first draft of Honey For What Hurts is officially finished, which sounds much more graceful than the reality of it. At the moment, the manuscript is being poked, prodded, questioned, criticized, rearranged, encouraged, side-eyed, and occasionally praised before immediately being criticized again. In other words: editing.
Some chapters are stretching their wings beautifully. Others are sitting in the metaphorical fern looking bewildered and demanding snacks.
Still, there’s something satisfying about this moment. The story exists now. Messy, imperfect and overgrown in places, but alive.
Also, I suspect this baby house finch and I are both one highlighter away from needing a nap and a strong, sweet coffee.