I'm in San Francisco trying to write. Or, rather, attempting to revise. Revision is a bitch or, rather, I am revision's bitch. It's so hard for me to look at a completed manuscript and figure out where to from here. It's easier to rewrite the goddamned thing. I feel so stuck right now.
Here's my first paragraph:
Sid changes just
when I’m beginning to heal. I keep telling myself that it’s no big deal, just
the aging process, but I’ve trained myself for too long to look for the little
signs. Personality, behavior, habits – all shifting away from the dog I’ve
always known.
Where to from here? Who knows?
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