My son loves art projects. Usually I just keep an art drawer full of pipe cleaners, pom poms, markers, paper and glue and he just...creates. Well, I had this brilliant idea to buy melty beads. You know-those tiny little beads you place on peg boards, then iron so the design melts together. Why I thought it might be a good idea for a four year-old, I'm not sure. It tested my patience as a thirty year-old because as you place each new bead, the bead you just placed sticks to your fingers and falls off.
Somehow, we both managed to fall into a groove after much trial and error. We were working side-by-side, each beading our own board, wrapped in our creative silence. Then BAM! (Did I really believe it would last?) "It's keep falling off. IT'S KEEP FALLING OFF." So he SWIPED his hand across the table and all those beads went skittering everywhere. In a patient mother voice (which was not the voice I used when he kept dropping boogars on my bed during naptime) I told him to just try it agin. "Sometimes we have to be patient and just do it again."
My thoughts immediately turned to my manuscript because for the last few days I've been toying with the idea of ditching it, starting something new from scratch. New state, new home, new friends, new book...right? What I really find intimidating about my book is that the more I write, the more I discover how much writing and rewriting is left to do. (Insert above advice to my son.) My book has been like that fatal iceberg. It seemed a modest and fun task from far away, but the closer I get I realize what a monster lurks below the surface and it's threatening to sink my ship. (Those of you who can't tolerate cheesy metaphors are excused.)
The irony is I was considering starting a new book from scratch, as if that book would somehow be different. My husband finally convinced me to stay with it when I read some of my (latest) beginning to him. He told me I should spend more time writing. (WHAT TIME?...This is another blog post.) Anyway, I appreciated the vote of confidence. Now I'm going to go gather up my beads and keep moving forward. ("Moving forward" meaning I also need to stop rewriting my beginning and FINISH the rewrite once and for all.)