It’s the revision that is getting to me. It’s like I am asked to revise my own life over and over again while rewriting. I am asked each day to pick apart my life and make sense of it.
“A memoir is a hard thing to write”
A memoir is a hard thing to write. How can I choose the memories that tell the reader who I am? How much do I really want to tell? I hear a voice inside me all the time wanting to make my book so perfect, to tell the whole story and nothing but the whole story. But I know I can’t do that it one book. There are too many stories to tell.
“A poet never finishes a poem, they just abandon it.”
I am having a difficult time revisiting my book each day though I know that I have to get it done. The more I wait the more it slips away from me. As a wise teacher once said to me, “A poet never finishes a poem, they just abandon it. So publish your damn book!” He also said, that eventually that book will become stale. If you let it sit too long you will out grow it. You must finish it and move on.
I can’t seem to finish it. The first and second drafts are done. The third is hard. I seem so far away from it. I fear revisiting it because I see that writing and think who is that there on that page? I see myself one year ago and I don’t recognize myself. I am not that person, nor am I that writer anymore.
The resistance is strong but I will “keep on keeping on” and try to tame the monster long enough for it to come out in a coherent manner so that everyone can enjoy the ride. I’ve got to finish this book! And soon!
