Christmas has come and gone, leaving a pile of cardboard boxes, torn paper and recycling in its wake. Not to mention tons of baked good, all of which will be diligently eaten before the new year. So today finds me, cookie in hand, staring down the barrel of a rewrite. Not a great place to be. Yes, the start of a rewrite is like the start of a new year-- full of hope and possiblity. You can see how fantastic a story is going to be. At the same time, like a new year, you have NO idea what's going to happen between January 1st and December 31st. You make a few resolutions (this story will be funny!) try to set up a few plans (the main character will NOT have a name!)... and then the rest happens. The circus comes to town. A hurricane blows through. The rain dries up and you lie in the dust waiting, waiting, waiting for something to happen. Or, like just now, a curious kitten jumps on our lap and comes close to erasing all of your good (and not so good) work.
A new year is indeed like a new pass on a manuscript. I have plans, yes, but no idea how I will achieve them all. The next year, and the next book, are both going to be great. I guess the rest is just faith, hard work, and cookies.