Speaking of my story, I've spent the better part of the last month going through everything I've written so far. Major and minor edits. Mostly in Microsoft Word on my laptop, and nothing, yet, updated on the site. I've been fairly successful at spending at least 30 minutes a day with it. Sometimes more.
Earlier in the week I ran out of old material to edit, revise, and tweak. And it's not as though I don't know exactly where the story is going. I've had the story arc down pat for years. I'm just surprised how easy it was -- how simple and methodical -- to edit my old prose, but once I began advancing the story again, tonight, well, not so much. I'd procrastinated for three days. Tonight, even, I futzed around after everybody went to sleep, not quite sure why I didn't want to add a scene or two here and there, some much needed back story.
It'll be eighteen years in remission just over a week from now. My goal is to finish writing about everything no later than the end of this year. But damn. It's tougher writing the "new" stuff than I'd expected. Just when you think these old scabs have healed completely, they still hurt like fuck all when you pick at them.
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