Husband has been sick since last Wednesday, and yesterday, he started feeling better.  I’m a much more content person now that he is smiling and mobile.  I can do all the stuff that needs to be done at home, but it’s much more fun when we do it together.  When I got home last night, he was in the middle of cooking a batch of Caribbean Corn Chowder, looking all sumptuous with his cutting board and recipe and enameled cast iron pot.  I joined in, dissolving bouillon cubes and peeling sweet potatoes.  Our pups were running in and out of the open back door.  It was such a nice night.  We also cooked a batch of Sopa de Lima (Lime Soup), which I highly recommend.  Why so much food?  The soup goes in Ziploc bags, and we freeze them for handy meals during the week.  I love our little life.

On Writing—So, I’m discovering that I have learned so much since I’ve started writing a year and a half ago.  The writing from then to now on FirstBook is, gently put, unrecognizably the same person’s hand.  Unfortunately, that also means that as I am re-reading what I’ve written, I’m finding the plot is stable, but the delivery is poo.  I’m basically starting over.  Last week, I drastically rewrote and extended the main character’s introduction to her female counterpart and setting, developing their friendship in a truer-to-life way.  Also, I changed the scene setting and dialogue of the initial meeting between the female and male main characters.  What this means is that of the approximately 30,000 words of completion into the first draft I vainly announced in a past blog, I’m happy with 6,353 of them, give or take.

This is a hard realization.  Stranger still, I’m surprised at my reaction to this epiphany.  I am having a really difficult time being sad about this.  I think it’s because I REALLY, TRULY love what is happening in these scenes.  The result of the last few weeks’ writing has shown the most potential than anything I’ve written before.

So I’m not as far along as I thought (hoped)…  So I may have to rethink my deadline…

What I failed to insert into my formula when I created my deadline was the learning curve.  I am LEARNING how to write a proper novel while in the midst of writing.  I have online authors whose blogs I follow because they are so generous and kind to share HOW they write.  I’ve learned and continue to learn so much from a (paid) course developed by an author that helped with my organizing my ideas, developing good plot, and understanding my creative self. My writing partner is amazing and offers encouragement and comfort.  I’m finding my voice and my style as an author.  I’m BECOMING an author.  The transformation is in process, people.  I’ve hit novelist puberty with this project.  By the time the revisions are through, I’ll bet a nickel I’ll be in novelist early-adulthood.  Any takers?