I have finished at last the first draft of my YA earthquake novel. Going away soon, I have thrown myself into editing other manuscripts and sending them away. A good time of the year to invite rejection?

All this to say I have been in editing mode for some time. Then I realize I am always in editing mode. For example, I am reading a fascinating book called K is for Hawk by Helen Macdonald. Her choice of words is always evocative. Yet still I edit. For example on page 171 is a wonderful paragraph.

“There is a time in life when you expect the world to be always full of new things. And then comes a day when you realise that is not how it will be at all. You see that life will become a thing made of holes, Absences. Losses. Things that were there and are no longer. And you realise, too, that you have to grow around and between the gaps, though you can put your hand out to where things were and feel that tense shining dullness of the space where the memories are.”

I paused and awed over these sentences, then wanted to change them. Just the last one. Using the same words, I made…

“And, though you can put your hand out to where things were and feel that tense shining dullness of the space where the memories are, you realise, too, that you have to grow around and between the gaps.”

Maybe it’s because I need the growth to be more important.

Regardless I guess I am a writer, after all, for writers must edit.

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