The Glorious Drafting Process
It’s the third to last Thursday in February and the New England sky is the color of Manhattan clam chowder.
WHAT IN THE BANANAS IS THIS? Did I just write this bucket of burning junk? And isn’t Manhattan clam chowder red? Was the sky actually red? No. No, it was not.
It’s a Thursday very deep in February and the sky looks like boiled mushrooms.
Not good, but better. At least the words don’t get in the way as much; they’re in service of the writing’s intention. Hey! Question: What is my intention?
It’s not scene setting exactly. Tone setting is more like it. This is a bleak, spare moment the reader is walking into.
Thursday in late February, no blue in the sky.
That’s workable. Cleaner, spare enough to mirror the moment being created. I can build a narrative from this.
And, hey, remember this: You couldn’t find the working last line without writing the unworkable first. Nothing worthwhile just drops out of the Manhattan clam chowder-colored sky fully formed.
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