I am nearly at the end of a rewrite that has taken over six months. I stopped blogging about it altogether because I knew everyone had to be sick of hearing about my editorial woes. Believe it or not, I have mixed emotions now that the end is in sight. On one hand, I am thrilled to begin the querying. Rejection or manuscript request, it's a fun process, and I haven't been involved in it for a long time. The other side of the coin is missing my characters, losing the feeling of a story I love so well. There's always a grieving process at the end of a book. At least there is for me.
Last night, it occurred to me that writing a story is kind of like making a puzzle. Euphemistically-speaking, you are the puzzle-maker, you have the picture in your head. You lay it out for others to discover, only to realize that there are too many pieces, that your vision is too convoluted. So you reposition things, you remove the unnecessary sections. You polish the colors and throw in a trick or two, just to make things interesting. It's a wonderful job, isn't it?
How is your puzzle coming together?