An unexpected side-effect of this incremental work is the higher potential for quicker discovery of poor choices. Like yesterday. I could easily have blown 2 or 3 hours shoving the story along in the wrong direction the way I was going yesterday. Instead, I found myself thinking it through this evening while doing the dishes before getting to the day’s writing. Within a minute I had found a far better and more natural direction for the conversation, with the added bonus of shedding some more light on the new character. When I finally sat down to write, I put a big ‘X’ through yesterday’s work without reservation, and then was off and running in the new direction.
Well, for 10 minutes, anyway, but it’s still a win twice over: once for the day’s writing, and once for ‘losing’ only yesterday’s 5 minutes instead of 3 hours.
Entirely unrelatedly, it’s amazing how much a baby can throw up. Terrible to see her going through it, though, completely confused and exhausted and scared, with that shuddering breathing that comes afterward, and then the after-shocks and more throwing up. She’ll get through it and tomorrow will be fine, but it’s just more proof how powerless being a parent can feel.