mainly sunny, beautiful day - a cool breeze has just appeared. temps 26
But temperature going down. I think, while pleasant now, this cool breeze is bringing something with it. Still, it's been a gorgeous few days here. But, like so many, we awoke to the news, and terrible images, out of Joplin. So much destruction - so many dead and missing. The destruction, the force of it, is almost beyond belief.
Honestly, Michael and I both send out thoughts, and prayers. It sounds so empty, but it has meaning for us.
Back at home we had a lovely day yesterday. Sat outside with our morning cups of coffee - then into the living room. Lit a fire. Not that we needed it, but it's cheerful. then spent much of the day writing and speaking to friends and family. Sunday is like that.
Then off to the cottage for a bbq with Susan. She did these wonderful sausages from a farmer up the road - Breese. And made our favorite salad ever. Watermelon, flat leaf parsley, mint, spanish onions and feta. She also had corn bread muffins and did mushrooms and onions on the bbq. For dessert she'd prepared posset. A lemon cream confection. If we could eat heaven, it would taste like posset.
When susan comes to our place for dinner we just hope Trudy doesn't throw up on her. We consider it even.
Today was a wonderful day - with absolutely no agenda except to write. Awoke to lovely sun. had breakfast by the pool, then washed the bedding and hung it outside to dry. Lovely to see the white sheets flapping in the wind.
then went inside, lit the fire and spent nine hours writing, and editing, and re-writing.
Normally I try not to edit too much on a first draft. But this was another pivotal and delicate scene, and I just knew it wasn't right. And I was worried that if this was even slightly off, almost unnoticeable, the balance of the book would get further and further away from what I want to say.
The setting was right. The characters were right. the elements were right. But there was a better way of telling it all. That would be delicate and subtle and multi-dimensional while appearing to be straight forward.
It was very tempting to just leave it, and fix on the re-write. And that might have worked. Frankly, at this stage, I'm just desperate to finish. I'm running a step ahead of exhaustion. Not physical, but a sort of mental and creative tired. In the marrow. But I keep saying to myself to just keep going. Another step. And make it beautiful. Make it right. make it meaningful. And then another. And then another.
Don't flag, I tell myself. And never, ever give into the syndrome that dogged me much of my youth. Good enough. Or, as my brother Doug calls it, Cloud 8.
Close. Close enough.
But I know what lies down that road. Disappointment. In the outcome, but mostly in myself.
I really love this book. the setting, the themes. They mean something to me. It's not just words, and not just a story. And I worry that I'm not going to do it justice. But then I whisper to myself - just one step. And make it beautiful, Make it joyous. Make it meaningful.
Because this is an important element in my life. And at the end of it I don't want to look back on a whole lot of, Good Enough. And when I look at what happens to many, many people - like those in Joplin - I think, how dare I buckle under so light a weight. Whatever burden I'm carrying is of my own making. And easily borne.
I don't expect this book, or any, to be perfect. But I do expect that they will be filled with the best I can give. And then, perhaps, a little bit more.
Hope you're well, and able to bear whatever weight you've been given. I know that you so often lighten my load, make me smile and feel not at all alone. thank you. I hope it isn't a one-way street.
Be well, my friends.