Like all writers, I jot down my brilliant thoughts when and wherever they come to me. Okay … I jot down my not-so-brilliant thoughts too. I’ve written these thoughts, of whatever degree, on scraps of paper, napkins, page margins, magazine subscriptions cards, even a mirror. I’ve yet to buy one of those nifty waterproof notepads for the shower, but I do keep a notepad in the drawer of my bedside table.
Unless this is your first visit to this blog, you probably know I’m in the final stages of editing my next novel, An Illusion of Trust. The task has become so intense that I also edit—symbolically or literally—in my dreams almost every night. It’s not restful, but I think my nocturnal editing has produced a good idea or two subconsciously. It’s also produced one bit of maddening frustration.
Remember that notepad beside my bed? Well, I woke from one of those editing dreams the other night and got up to use the bathroom. Fully awake, I thought about what I’d been dreaming and when I got back to my bed, in the dark, I pulled out that note pad and wrote a note to myself.
See the photo in this post? You can read “description” in the second line, right? Any clue what the first line says? Well, since I’m a little bit familiar with my chicken scratching, I think the second word is “thing”. But I’ve looked at the first word for three days now and I still can’t figure it out. And even if I read the note it as “blah-blah thing description”, I can’t imagine what I meant. Then again, maybe the two lines are separate notes. Aaarrgh!
So, I’m haunted. Obviously, I thought this was important at the time I wrote it. What if it’s the key to a brilliant edit? What if that edit would pull every element in the book together? What if the future of my writing depends on this notation? I’m not sure I can move past this.
How will I prevent the recurrence of such a horror? Any future middle of the night notations will be made in the notes app on my iPhone!
BTW: If you decipher that first word, let me know and I’ll send you a signed copy of Illusion after it’s published.
It looks like “Identify this description” — hmmm, now I’ll want to stare at it and see what else it may be!
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Thanks for trying, Kat, but I never start a capital I to the left on the base line. I do think the last letter in that first word is a y, though.
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“_ _ _ a l y … t h i n g
d e s c r i p t i o n”
This is the best determination I can make. 🙂
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Ah-ha, David, you may be right that the first word ends in aly. It appears the letter before is an i, so now I can work on a word that ends in ialy … and makes sense! 😉
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Wow, a conundrum! I’ve done this before, by the way, so don’t feel bad. I’ve also sworn to myself a hundred times that I will WRITE more stuff down in the middle of the night rather than believing I’ll just remember something brilliant as I’m drifting off. Yeah, right!
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Oh, Michelle, I can’t tell you how many times I’ve done the forgetting thing. Then I try to convince myself it was probably not worth remembering. 😉 I’ve tried about everything to figure this one out. I now believe it reads BEBIALY THING DESCRIPTION—which makes no sense at all. 😀
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I’ve done things like this myself. If it truly was teh key to everything, you would have remembered it. When you do figure it out, you must let us know!
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That’s how I’m consoling myself now, Darlene. I just hope I don’t decipher it ten minutes after the book’s published. 😦
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