I managed to hang 2 loads of laundry out yesterday. As I typed away on my synthesis draft, I totally forgot about the laundry. I remember seeing a huge flock of birds in the front apple tree, but didn't think twice of it. By evening the birds had landed their droppings on every single thing on the line. Ugh!
The birds might as well have landed droppings on my paper too. It totally bombed the first time the writing center reviewed it for me. I was totally off track in logical flow. I frantically deleted, added, moved stuff around, and sent it off again. I'm still waiting for the review. I'm trying to be patient.
But that's what writers need - composure in handling criticism. We need it to become better writers. If we were perfect the first time, every time, then everyone would want to write for a living. Maybe they already do and have no idea how many drafts it may take to get it right.
"Don't worry Mom. Some day you'll have your book published" said my 17 year-old son as I typed away last night.
I was so flabbergasted at trying to make logical order out of my mess, that I typed right through dinner. At one point I had to grab my shuffle and plug my ears with it. Blasting out the house full of kids in order to keep my thoughts from unraveling.
We'll see what happens today.
The birds might as well have landed droppings on my paper too. It totally bombed the first time the writing center reviewed it for me. I was totally off track in logical flow. I frantically deleted, added, moved stuff around, and sent it off again. I'm still waiting for the review. I'm trying to be patient.
But that's what writers need - composure in handling criticism. We need it to become better writers. If we were perfect the first time, every time, then everyone would want to write for a living. Maybe they already do and have no idea how many drafts it may take to get it right.
"Don't worry Mom. Some day you'll have your book published" said my 17 year-old son as I typed away last night.
I was so flabbergasted at trying to make logical order out of my mess, that I typed right through dinner. At one point I had to grab my shuffle and plug my ears with it. Blasting out the house full of kids in order to keep my thoughts from unraveling.
We'll see what happens today.
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