I had one goal for yesterday: final revisions on a short story named The Key. I visualized breezing through it, editing out a few “to be” verbs, and marking it off my to do list before lunch.
In reality, I sat in front of my computer for hours. Something close to a half hour went to trying and failing to find a different phrase than “the woman” to describe a woman without a name we’d just met (I failed. I ended up just moving the other “the woman” to a different place in the sentence so at least two consecutive sentences didn’t start with the same phrase).
Lunchtime came and went.
Finally, around 7 pm, I saved a version with the file name The Key – finalish.
I opened it up again today to look for what I like to call “revision artifacts.”
Now, more than 24 hours after I thought I’d be done – I’m waiting for one last proofread.
It’s tempting to think, when you read a good short story, that some author out there whipped that thing out in a couple hours and sent it off that same day.
Perhaps that author is out there, but it’s not me! Those shorts are hard work!