|Ruins yield treasures.|
I dug out the hard copy of a manuscript yesterday. I had no choice as I'd only backed up half of it and the hard drive it was on is ruined. How it got physically damaged is a mystery. It will stay that way.
It may turn out to be a blessing in that I have to retype the story.
Retyping leads to rewriting.
Said manuscript had lain dormant for several months. It had gone to a beta reader whose taste and opinion I trust.
Beta advised. Beta is right. Betas words are gone with the hard drive, but I recall the gist and it is on a closed loop in my mind as I write.
Writing feels good. Rewriting does, too, because I am re-imagining. It's similar to starting from scratch, but with a good well of ideas from which to draw.
Yesterday's output was a few hundred words, but it included shuffling of chapters, perking up of dialogue, scene punching, all manner of good stuff that happens in the first excited blush of creation.
I'm still waiting to hear back on a manuscript I've submitted to agents and publishers. This will keep my mind occupied while I wait.
The photo is part of the house my granddad built. I live there the first year of my life.