My friend Kate Messner recently compared the process of revising a book to the metamorphosis of a monarch caterpillar. Revise, revise, revise. (Chew, chew, chew.) Revise again, again, again. (Chew more, more, more.) Rest. (Pupate.) Presto! What was once a small, new creation is reborn as a brilliant, eye-popping butterfly. Or novel.
Me? I need to hang out with Kate more. Because today, I felt more like this:
© 2008 Loree Griffin Burns
Did you ever have a day like that? A day when your work-in-progress is not eye-popping but, well, a bit ragged around the edges? Just a bit?
Yes, well, then you know what I mean. This writing thing is not for the faint of heart. The good news is that this butterfly is a friend of mine. I spent several hours following him around my backyard on Monday, and I can tell you this: he can still fly. He was as spunky and fritillary as his companions, chewed-up wings and all. He was ragged and rugged. Not whole, surely, but unique. And beautiful. Very, very beautiful.
Sigh.
There is not much we writers can do, I suppose, but wake up every day and keep flying …