I am not blessed with patience. Though most people who meet me think I’m zen and chill that is only because I have hidden the Type A crazy that runs through my blood like mangoes at the beach. Motherhood has forced a serious amount of chill down my throat. It was that or crack like an egg and be put in a rocker in the corner.
I’m also impatient when I write. When the idea first lands in my head it is like a contagious disease that I need out of me. Then I have to edit and which are really metamorphic style revisions where I find glaring holes, terrible dialogue, bad story flow and I rework it into an almost unrecognizable story. Sometimes from that I find new story ideas so that is one plus. Then it’s more editing that evolve into proofreading. All of it is done under a furor of impatience.
Often I start editing too soon. Put it down Mia. Take a breath. Let it sit. Sometime I worry if I do when I go back to it I’ll hate it. I’ve found once I’ve gone through the first 2 rewrites I’m at a place where I need to step away and have faith that if it is that damn good it won’t matter when I get it out to the public.
As you may know from reading other posts, I just finished the Goldfinch. She worked more than 10 years on that. Same for her other works. I have to believe she’s out there right now working on the next one. Ten years! Her writing is on a level I don’t even aspire to hit but that timeline of ten years is a long dedicated horizon that requires patience.
So maybe I need to remind myself of this truism when I get antsy or frustrated with the entire process. Deep breath and Patience.