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!
Weaver of Words 