Monday, June 4, 2007
The Eye of the Beholder
Moments ago I was sitting in my family room, editing my current work-in-progress, loving the quiet hour or so I'd lucked into. None of the 5 children who eat here/sleep here/ask for money were currently home. The dog was sleeping at my feet, ice melting in my iced tea. A large thump from the front of my house startled me and I hurried to the door. Needless to say I was surprised to see my son (pictured in the previous post) and one of his friends, brushing off their hands after having dumped a large sofa on my beloved porch. They'd noticed the "FREE" sign on it and knew it would be perfect in their room at college next year. I really shouldn't have been that surprised. In the 16 years we've lived here this is at least the third sofa one or both of my sons has deposited on my porch. They've never paid a dime for any of them. I see flotsam, they see an unfurnished apartment filling up. I also see their grins.
My son and his buddy headed to the pizza parlor where they work and I went back to my editing. And had one of those AHA! moments that led me to this post--I had seen garbage where they'd seen a comfy couch. When I'm editing/revising/drafting, I see stories and life and promise where others might only see words or missed connections or, even worse, garbage. It's my task, as the writer, to hone the words into prose, into its own world. I start with an idea, a phrase, a nuance. If I look at it right, I can see a furnished story where before had only been bare walls.
The goal I'd set for myself last week was to have this WIP fully developed and polished by the end of July. I'm holding to that and adding this: to have the sofa off my front porch by then as well.