I'm writing tonight. It's a cool, calm evening and I'm at the desk finishing a story. Nice feeling (much better than finishing the run at the gym felt...).
My drafts are "stuffed." I've got lots of details and feelings and things I want to be important and little notes to myself and dialogue that is stilted but important so it stays and ...
It is stuffed.
Now, I know disciplined writers who have the core of their story in their first draft and that's it: the core. They add dialogue and characterization details and the environment later in successive drafts.
I wish them well.
I'd like to have the ability to stick "only" to the core plot events of the story.
I outline. I plan. I draw pictures. I draft.
And yet knowing how the story turns before I begin the composition does little to keep the first pass from being bloated and slightly over-done much like most Thanksgiving turkeys.
I don't even like turkey all that much. I'm a baron of beef or standing rib roast sort of fellow. I eat turkey for lunch every day because my metabolism has slowed to a glacial pace and it seems I can't eat anything but carrots and turkey-hummus roll-ups for lunch.
Come Thanksgiving, I can't wait for turkey. I bet you're the same way.
I'm embracing my bulging drafts. I'm looking on them as great starters for a pared down late-night meal of leftovers which -- in my experience -- becomes the best part of the show.
You've got a little cranberry dripping out the sandwich there ... too late. That should wash out. Oh, dry cleaning? Sorry. Gift giving opportunity for the rest of us then. You look like a medium extra-ink stained.
Over stuffed isn't a bad thing. Avoid dry and under seasoned; but, overstuffed? Go right at it.
Careful carving solves all ills.
Happy Thanksgiving to the ink-stained crowd.
Mind the family. We all have them.
Two drink minimum.
Write something this holiday even if just the germ of a new story. You'll feel all the better for it.
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