Sometimes, the word fairy takes vacation.
When the fickle little trollop leaves me, she never gives the courtesy of a two-week notice. Here one minute – then poof! Gone. It must be a Fairy Union thing, another example of collective bargaining processes gone wild.
I pressed on. Mind you, this isn’t an issue of simply putting words into the magic keyboard word machine. Let me give an example…
One of the last things I do after finishing (which includes edits, rewrites, more edits, and fits of rage, and then more edits) a manuscript is writing the synopsis. Writing a novel is a pleasure. Writing a synopsis is torture.
There is a special circle in Hell for the person who devised the synopsis. It is purely a mechanism to inflict pain, emotional distress and feed the writer’s garden of self doubt.
I liken the experience to shoving five pounds of ripe chicken droppings into a delicate five ounce, lace pouch. The story doesn’t fit, it leaks, spills out in chunks and begins to smell. A 90,000 word story condensed into 1,000 words or less. What could go wrong.
So, off I went a writing, without the spiritual guidance of the Word Fairy. The condensing, vacuum packing and teasing out of the good bits happened. A mini-me version of my novel began to appear on the screen. After a basketful of hours, a synopsis was born. Angels sang and rainbows appeared.
Then. It. Happened.
I tried to save the document.
It wouldn’t save as the name I’d chosen (title synopsis.doc)
What the Hell?
The magic word box said I already had a file by that name. What?
It couldn’t be possible. I just finished the damn thing.
So, I opened the mystery file. There, before me was a synopsis, one I wrote THREE MONTHS AGO.
I don’t remember writing it.
The good news is that both versions of the synopsis ended the same way.
I’m taking this as a sign that I’ve been burning the candle at both ends. The light is bright, but it burns out fast.
Time to take a breather…