“I think I can. I think I can. I think I can…”
You might think that deleting a manuscript off your computer is pretty permanent right? Well so did I, but those little babies won’t leave you alone until they're ready, it’s got nothing whatsoever to do with you.
I have nicknamed my desire pitch ms “Phoenix” because it keeps popping up in my life regardless of its trip to the recycling bin ; ). How? Well, sometimes I print out odds and ends and even whole chapters to edit because the computer has sent me cross-eyed. The result is that my ms ends up all through the house (I’m not as messy as I sound… I think.) So when a much earlier draft copy fell on my head (literally) I decided that someone was trying to tell me something (or kill me) and that I should probably do something with it.
So I’m back to rewriting and I’m not happy about it. I don’t have to be either which gives me a bit of a thrill having worked in customer service for years you start to wonder if your face will freeze with that ridiculous smile on it.
I honestly feel as though I’m editing it against my will but surprise, surprise, it actually seems to be working which just goes to show you that you can do a very good job at editing something badly, but you can do much better the second time around if threatened with bodily harm.
So the manuscript will end up being submitted after all, because I’m not going to risk finding it multiplying under my bed (scary thought!). If only I had listened to you all in the first place I could have saved myself some brain damage…
Before it fell on my head I uncovered it among my bank statements (don’t ask me how it got there…), I fell over it (well… it was in a box and I fell over the box) and a friend’s dog ate some of it (I’m trying not to take that too personally :) ).
I guess the lesson here is that sometimes the world will give you a kick in the behind whether you think you need it or not.