One thing I know about writing. You must love “red-ink.” Even then, who knows? Kaze and I spent last week with our noses to the grindstone, to quote an old cliche (A cliche is an expression, idea, or element of an artistic work which has been overused to the point of losing its original meaning or effect).
We have written a series of short stories about our lives that point to finding, being aware of, discovering the sacred in the ordinary. Our book had its first edit this fall. Last week we rewrote and rewrote to correct the “red-ink” marks on all pages. Of course, our editor didn’t use red -ink, but the result is the same when a plain, every-day pen is used. Our book now geographically extends from Arizona to Australia and Kansas to Kenya. It spans nearly fifty years. Our conversations roamed across many additional memories that do not appear in the book. What a heart-warming, exhausting and joyful task. One colleague (who will remain nameless) says he wants ten copies of the book – and we don’t even have it named yet. We created a chart to keep track of what goes where…and where we are in the process. As each story is re-edited and re-edited it all feels like a giant jigsaw puzzle. What a privilege to work with a colleague/friend on this project.