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Writing and Pre-Grief
Jan. 28th, 2008 10:54 amI'm avoiding working on revisions (for Tate) right now. I actually don't mind the revision process, particularly at this stage -- which is to say, during creation. I tend to dislike having to do anything with the novel after I've written "THE END," although I'm also the kind of writer who will polish something right up until the last day it absolutely has to be at the publisher because I want it to be the best novel I can write.
I'm also a bit stymied because I had to put out a call to my fellow Wyrdsmiths because I forgot to write down an idea someone had for an alternate reason that Sebastian smiles in a certain scene. Part of the problem is that I normally do my revisions within days of getting them. This weekend was busy and, as Shawn wisely noticed and pointed out, I sublimated a lot of my own concern about her dad by puzzling. (We always have a jig-saw puzzle going these days, but I tend to get a bit obsessive when I'm grieving/worried. After Ella died, I found myself doing other mind-occupying passtimes a lot, too. I played way too much Tetra, for instance, and did crossword puzzles.) So, I didn't write. I fretted instead.
Shawn found out last night that her dad is actually at home today. I guess that grandma got a chance to look at his chart, and, well, things don't look good (again with the not clear, but apparently the chart did imply that the cancer had spread to other areas. They're going ahead with the kidney surgery because it throws so much else out of wack and is making him deeply uncomfortable.) So the move home is... well, it's the kind of move you do when you're thinking about making people Comfortable, you know? That's really hard on Shawn. The worst part is that Mason really doesn't understand. When he heard that grandpa was at home, he said, "I was hoping that was the news. I'd hoped he was cured!"
I'm thinking that just IN CASE, I need to unearth the book "I'll Always Love You," which is actually about the death of a beloved pet, but it might help Mason deal with grandpa's illness, too. The book is the best I've seen, actually. Its approach is very Unitarian to me. There's no talk about after-life, only an acceptance that the love you gave is what will comfort you when people/animals are gone. That's one of the reasons we've been very keen to send grandpa cards and letters and cookies and declarations of love right now. Saying "I'll always love you," helps, I think both during... and, god forbid, after.
I'm also a bit stymied because I had to put out a call to my fellow Wyrdsmiths because I forgot to write down an idea someone had for an alternate reason that Sebastian smiles in a certain scene. Part of the problem is that I normally do my revisions within days of getting them. This weekend was busy and, as Shawn wisely noticed and pointed out, I sublimated a lot of my own concern about her dad by puzzling. (We always have a jig-saw puzzle going these days, but I tend to get a bit obsessive when I'm grieving/worried. After Ella died, I found myself doing other mind-occupying passtimes a lot, too. I played way too much Tetra, for instance, and did crossword puzzles.) So, I didn't write. I fretted instead.
Shawn found out last night that her dad is actually at home today. I guess that grandma got a chance to look at his chart, and, well, things don't look good (again with the not clear, but apparently the chart did imply that the cancer had spread to other areas. They're going ahead with the kidney surgery because it throws so much else out of wack and is making him deeply uncomfortable.) So the move home is... well, it's the kind of move you do when you're thinking about making people Comfortable, you know? That's really hard on Shawn. The worst part is that Mason really doesn't understand. When he heard that grandpa was at home, he said, "I was hoping that was the news. I'd hoped he was cured!"
I'm thinking that just IN CASE, I need to unearth the book "I'll Always Love You," which is actually about the death of a beloved pet, but it might help Mason deal with grandpa's illness, too. The book is the best I've seen, actually. Its approach is very Unitarian to me. There's no talk about after-life, only an acceptance that the love you gave is what will comfort you when people/animals are gone. That's one of the reasons we've been very keen to send grandpa cards and letters and cookies and declarations of love right now. Saying "I'll always love you," helps, I think both during... and, god forbid, after.