A few weeks ago, my writing group and I realized that all five of us had to confront some surgical-level revisions in our manuscripts. The plots weren’t working, not enough was at stake, and we were stuck. It’s like that old song, “Dry Bones,” I said. The one where “the knee bone’s connected to the thigh bone,” except we’re going to have to connect the thigh bone to the head bone and see if the body can, as the song says, “walk around.”
Writing with Scissors
Writing with Scissors
Writing with Scissors
A few weeks ago, my writing group and I realized that all five of us had to confront some surgical-level revisions in our manuscripts. The plots weren’t working, not enough was at stake, and we were stuck. It’s like that old song, “Dry Bones,” I said. The one where “the knee bone’s connected to the thigh bone,” except we’re going to have to connect the thigh bone to the head bone and see if the body can, as the song says, “walk around.”