Two full days left (counting today) of the residency, and everyone is freaking out. We have either met our goals and deadlines and never want to leave or we’re losing our shit because we haven’t gotten enough done—why have we wasted all of our time?—and never want to leave.
I had no concrete goals when I came here, I just wanted to work very hard at finishing the Fucker. I wanted to do the kind of work that I can’t fit between editorial jobs and second job at [college redacted].
I have spent a good portion of my time here cutting and pasting. This sounds like nothing when I write it down. But I’m querying each chapter: Who are you and what are you doing? I’m trimming the shit that doesn’t belong. I’m taking beloved paragraphs and jamming them into places that I think they will fit. They don’t. So I pick them up again, as if they were delicate china, and place them somewhere else.
I think I’ve done what I came here to do. For the first time in the three-ish years I’ve been working on this project, I am a few days of hard editing from having a few sample chapters and a detailed outline. Let me say that again because it sounds all professional-like: Sample chapters and a detailed outline.
Where are you?