Just like Megan Fox, I am a cutter. Great initials, by the way, Megan.

[sidebar: I didn’t think anyone could possibly be as beautiful as Angelina Jolie, but Megan Fox is so stunning that it is almost hard to look at her. Yes, she is outrageous and dumb and outrageously dumb in interviews, but she must have had a seriously different life than any of us have had, since she’s been that gorgeous her whole life, and people treat you differently. Plus, she’s an actor; who cares what she says in interviews?]

But unlike Megan, I am proud of cutting. (My friend Kwana calls me The Queen of Cut). Earlier this week, my agent emailed to suggest revising my manuscript currently making the editorial rounds. I’d already returned from National with all kinds of ways to improve it, and much of the feedback from editors has been similar, so it makes sense to act on it, and improve the manuscript. Even if it ends up not selling, it will be useful to have undergone the editing exercise. Now that school is back in session, and life is almost back to normal, I have time to actually act.

So I’m yanking out at least two plot threads in the manuscript, which means I’ve got pages and pages with slashing red lines drawn through them. It feels good, to weed out what I knew, in my writer heart of hearts, was wrong.

What’s left? A love story. A love story between two people, one of whom is seriously damaged, and one of whom thinks she is unworthy. It will remain to be seen if I can cobble together a compelling book, but meanwhile, I have my little red pen in my hand and I’m going to town.

I don’t know if I have anything else to add today, since my head is all kinds of engrossed with this, plus the normal detritus that clogs my brain. Next week I’ll be pulling out most, if not all, of the stops with an Anniversary Post. How about commenting on anything you want, if you are so inclined?


*An Echo And The Bunnymen song. You’re welcome.