I’ve just sat down with 1919 for the first time in a week, smoothing and polishing the first half of December.
And the break’s done me good, I believe. It’s too easy to lose sight of all the individual trees when I’m wrapped up in the wood.
So. Fresh eyes and I approached it with enthusiasm, which I don’t always have for revisions.
I love the adventure of wrestling notes into a first draft, whereas revision can seem like kicking around a corpse – shaving and shining something I’ve already done.
Did I mention I’m homo neophile? That I fetishise novelty and fresh things and I have the attention span of a moth on crack?
Add to this, a mind that’s like Eastern European animation at fast-forward speed and you see the extent of my problem.
Basically, in a lot of respects, I’m an adolescent. I have such a low boredom threshold, it’s not funny.
So, getting myself psyched to revise this (again!) is quite a triumph.
I should have this completed over the next couple of days and, as was foretold in song and legend, people will actually be able to read the bastard soon!