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The Killing Rewrite

A true dialogue between Alisia and myself: and yes, the allusion to Queensryche’s song “The Killing Words” is totally intentional.

 EK: *whines* I’m having such a hard time with this damn rewrite.  It just seems to be going slow.  And slower.  You know, I just broke 5k a few days ago.

Alisia: *contemplative* And you can’t work faster because…..?

EK: *rolling my eyes* Because then it’ll turn to crap!  You know, like draft 1– *realizing what she just said and insinuated* –I mean, it’s not crap–

Alisia: You bet it isn’t!  It’s utter brilliance!  *she looks so feral, especially her eyes, and for a moment the Weaver is scared*

EK: That utter brilliance fell just shy of 400k.  Four. Hundred. K.

Alisia: So?  That’s how long it took to tell the story.  That’s ok, right?

EK: *shakes her head, wishes she had some Bailey’s to down* It’s not okay, Alisia.  It’s murder.  It’s….terrible!  I can’t write short.  It’s impossible.  *sighs, putting head down on table that suddenly appears*

Alisia: *patting the Weaver’s shoulder consolingly* Shhh.  It’s ok.  Whatever you need to do, do it.  I have faith in you.

EK: *looking up at Alisia* Uh….you do?

Alisia: Of course!   *she smiles, baring teeth that could almost pass for fangs* That’s why I picked you to tell my story.

EK: *narrows eyes*  So how come it changed after draft 1?  Why are you now Fae?

Alisia: *shrugs* Hell if I know.  Things get obscured sometimes.

EK: Great.  Now you sound like a prophetess.

Alisia: I am— *she stops, covering her mouth with one pale hand* I’m not supposed to say that, am I?

EK: Nopers.  Nice save.  *stretches like a cat*  So.  I am frustrated with this rewrite.  I keep wanting to edit the damn thing.  The Weaver never edits anything while in draft form.  It’s just…not done. *starts picking at one semi-long fingernail, then remembers her oath to herself not to do that, and fists her hand instead*

Alisia: Well, apparently the Weaver needs to learn some new tricks.

EK: But what good is editing doing me?  I backtrack!  I do the very thing S.L. Viehl says not to!  And I love her writing.  She rocks.  So why can’t I rock like that?

Alisia: *rolling her eyes* You do rock, just in a different way.  Okay.  *sits down on a chair that magically appears*  Here’s the thing.  Maybe editing isn’t so bad.  Maybe it is helping, even though it doesn’t feel that way right now.

EK: *nods, looking slightly confuzzled*  That could be.  But it just goes against the grain of everything.

Alisia: But remember, Weaver, remember.  This is your first real rewrite.  It’s bound to be a little weird.  You’re a speed demon on wordcounts.  I mean, 15 minutes and 500+ is damn good.  So, you just gotta roll with it.  You dig?

EK: *arches a brow* But you know, Eternal Dance was, technically, my first rewrite.

Alisia: That never made it past the first few chapters, as I recall.  *she buffs her fingernails against her top* And then before that, it was The Sacrifice. When you got annoyed with that, Radio Waves was born.  What ever happened to that one, anyhow?

EK: Uh….boredom?  Actually, I just got stalled.  Something else hooked me.  Damned if I remember what it was. 

Alisia: *giggling*  I don’t know how you keep everything straight.

EK: *taps her left temple* It’s called memory and compartmentalization.

Alisia: *makes a sign of warding* Oh, no.  Let’ not get all anal and high and mighty here.  I have a good memory, too.  I’m immortal, remember?

EK: Yes, I do.  *smiles*  But, that’s going to change.

Alisia: *pales visibly* I don’t wanna talk about it.

EK: Fine.  Back on topic.  I need to find a way to allow myself to write and edit and not feel so ….out of sorts with myself.  Any suggestions?

Alisia: You’re asking me?  I’m not a writer.  You are.

EK: But you are a Weaver.  Just a different kind.  So we’re like, cousins, or something.

Alisia: *looks down her nose, looking alot like…royalty* I don’t recall you having royal blood…..

EK: I might, Alisia.  Family legend speaks of it.  *winks*  Anyhow, we are very similar, and I thought you might have some–

Alisia: What about just…I dunno….writing the damn thing instead of worrying?

EK: That’s an idea.  Problem is, it’s that type of attitude that has me 8k behind.  As of tonight.

Alisia: And the race is….? 

EK: *shrugs* Oh, nothing.  Just a wee little dream of quitting my day job to be a fulltime writer.  Tiny thing.  Insignificant really.

Alisia: Awwww.  I’ve offended you.

EK: Who me, offended?  Nah.

Alisia: That’s right!  You don’t offend easily.  But…this hurts you doesn’t it?  You want this.  I can tell.

EK: *hangs head* Since I was really young.  I can’t bear to let that go.  And I have a chance.  But if I fuck it up, it’ll be gone. 

Alisia: *touches her Weaver’s wrist* Don’t worry.  You won’t fuck up.  You have me to pester, bother, and annoy you.  It will happen.  You’ll see.  You’ll be on the shelves, and so will I.

*Lucien walks up to them, looking sullen*

Alisia: Nashan, I was just telling our Weaver here that she’s going to make it. 

Lucien: *stares the Weaver down as if looking right into her soul* Make what?

EK: A chocolate, blood-filled cake.

Lucien: Oh.  That sounds….interesting. 

EK: *pretends to swat him upside the head* Hel-lo, prince of all vamps, come back to Earth.  Come back, Lucien.  *glances at Alisia*  What’s wrong with him?

*Alisia and Lucien exchange A Look*

Alisia: He’s upset that he hasn’t made an appearance yet in the rewrite.

EK: See what I mean! *throws up her hands in disgust* I haven’t fucking gotten there yet!

Lucien: It’s alright.  I’m sure it will be brilliant.

EK: Great, just what I need.  Pressure….

Alisia: Well, it could always be worse.  You could be dead.

Alisia’s voice can be heard in the background…. Stop editing this fucking post, will you!

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