I finished almost all my line edits and then set aside the novel for a few months, so I can look at it with fresh eyes at the end of the summer.
I didn’t even make it to the end of summer. On the last day of July I woke up at 3 a.m. and thought, “That novel would be a lot better if the midpoint is the inciting incident,” or, put another way, if I just ditch the first half.
So, I’ve talked myself into outlining a new version just as a thought exercise. The only thing is it’s so carefully plotted, damn it, and if I pull a thread that affects everything else.
So hard to do. Maybe it will convince me the whole thing has no value and I can move on.
I am mortified how the book is such needy transparent therapy, but here on he blog where I write like nobody’s watching, I have no shame. I need to abandon my shame with this novel.
We will see how the thought experiment works first.