How Do You Know When It’s Done?
Essay on the writing craft published in Brevity
I was about to send off what was to be the final draft of my first book to my agent when I had the heart-stopping thought, what if I rewrote the book again? How much better could it be?
The thought made me go so weak in the knees, I had to sit down.
My writing studio sits on the second floor of a building in the woods with windows on all four sides. In my reading chair next to a window, I sat at branch-level with the trees. It was fall, and the paper birch outside my window was releasing its leaves.
No other tree was dropping its leaves.
It wasn’t a windy day—there were no storms brewing or clouds scudding; the air was perfectly still. The woods were approaching peak fall color, and I didn’t know why this particular tree was choosing now to release its leaves.
Brevity, September 18, 2023.