A shiver – it’s that time again! The WIP has become a Title. Finit. Done. Over. It’s hard though; there are always ways it could be ‘finessed’ or touched up or improved. A bit like an artist who has to decide to put the brush down, let it dry, and move away. Onto the next project.
And that’s what I’m doing – onto the next project.
The Third Moment. In my head, right now, I don’t remember any of it . That’s a good thing. When the first draft was written, it was based on a rough outline and minor levels of understanding of character motivation and plot points. Now, when I open it up for re-reading, it will be ‘new’ and fresh, and those weak points will glare at me – force me to make choices to go one way or another, or to delete whole sections or arcs or characters. Doing it like that works for me, because I don’t mind ‘undressing’ the story pieces and laying out the bones and skin and muscle and menace. I don’t mind taking one MSS and turning it into a completely different ‘way’ to tell it. (That’s what happened with Unknown Sins, but that’s over now [deep sigh – another relationship over].)
I wonder what will happen when I open this one up, when I breathe in the ‘newness’ of it, the fresh perspective of a character who had to wait for me to catch up with her again. Another shiver, the anticipation, the tremor of delight that widens the eyes, that lets a little indrawn gasp in through the parted lips – it’s a sensual thing. I can feel it, the slide of commencement, a new relationship, a new beginning with someone met through a glance across the crowded room. We almost met, we touched briefly, and now – we begin the courtship, the dance of a relationship that will burn the two of us (maybe more than two, but at the moment, it’s a duet) until we either tan and glow, burn and blister, or pull apart for distance from the panic of that closeness.
And it begins!
No. I want to wait just one more day, to feel the tingle in my fingers and toes, in my belly and on my scalp – I want to anticipate the reunion, when we will both be bared to the instant of creation, the spark of lust and longing, the glitter of sunlight on flashing eyes that look at only me! The pulse races, the skin flushes – I love this.
And now I have to think up a cover for her*.