You would collectively laugh your asses off if you could see me now. It’s me or this organization, and I don’t mean the mob. I got to rest on my laurels for a few brief seconds. I had some actual new ideas about organization. I had written every day for 10 days. I went to [neighboring state] for a brief vacation. Phew.
But my day’s editorial work is finished and I have no excuse not to try to organize my manuscript. I printed out the first 72 (single spaced!) pages of my manuscript, and began to read. Then I began to cut. Literally. I got out my scissors and a stack of paper clips (because I’m too lazy to go downstairs to get the tape).
I marked each scrap of paper with the chapter it originally came from and gleefully stuck it with parts of different chapters. I separated paragraphs that have never existed apart from each other. I deleted the cute end sentences of my
When I finished chapter 1, I opened a pad of sticky notes to slap a big ol’ Chapter 1 on that badly cut, flimsy pile of papers. (I had my choice between the OMG or Duh notes, both of which I received from my brother-in-law for Christmas last year. I chose “Duh” because that is what organization feels like once you get it right.)
I’m in writer’s kindergarten today. How are your cutting skills? Do you still eat paste?
This post is dedicated to Snoopy, one of my favorite terrible writers