I’m not dead. I’m writing a novel

by Venomous Kate

I know, I know. It’s been, what, forever since I updated my blog. And, yes, I owe you Caption Contest winners. (Will you take a check?)

It’s not you. It’s me. Or, rather, it’s this damn novel I’m writing. I finished the first draft and gave it a rest while I did some major advance Spring Cleaning of the Venomous Homestead. (Hey it’s not MY fault winter won’t surrender its icy stranglehold!)

There’s something dispiriting about revisiting one’s “inspired” creative efforts and trying to rework them so… well, so they don’t suck.

The very process of revision had sapped my self-confidence, my crotch-tingling certainty I had thought up a tale worth being told. Ergo, I have the shiniest, most fresh-smelling toilets this side of the Mississippi. You read that right: lately I’ve found deposits of poop and dribbles of urine FAR more fascinating than whatever I could churn out at my computer.

Today, though, I finally sat down to (re-) write. According to my calendar, I haven’t done that since December 13. Yeah, I hate re-writing and revision THAT much.

Then I remembered: even God’s first draft was a disappointment to Him, the ultimate Creator. Thus He took the bare bone of his first draft and perfected it.

And that, boys and girls, is how we got Eve.

So, the blogging will resume shortly. Meanwhile, I’m off to investigate this strange crotch-tingling sensation. Send antibiotics if you don’t hear from me by the end of the week, m’kay?

2 Comments to “I’m not dead. I’m writing a novel”

  1. As long as you’re not dead.

  2. Does brain dead count?