For the last day of poetry month, something I love from Czeslaw Milosz about how it felt for him to write the stuff.
I am no more than a secretary of the invisible thing
That is dictated to me and a few others.
Secretaries, mutually unknown, we walk the earth
Without much comprehension. Beginning a phrase in the middle
Or ending it with a comma. And how it all looks when completed
Is not up to us to inquire, we won't read it anyway.
The second draft is begun. Read-through went well -- which means that I don't hate it, not that it doesn't still need significant work. I'm happy with the characters and their motivations and am feeling good about the arc of the story. Now I have to figure out how to tie all the loose strings together or pull them out. There are also sections of dialogue that read like Little House on The Prairie (even worse I mean the show and not the book) that need major attention.
And if you don't give a damn about the writing and have just come here to find out what I'm listening to now, I won't disappoint you.* Some new-to-me inspiration, some old favourites to let my brain rest. And a little motivational cheer right off the top, because the second draft does mean that it's hardcore now:
*Ha - Is there anyone who is coming here to find out either?! Pretty sure you're all related to me and are fuelled by obligation.
Erin Bedford, writer.