I am a force of nature. And all this time I've been striving to be such a powerful, amazing thing that others run from it or stare at in awe. I don't need to run anymore. I can stand still and feel the pulse of heat through my veins and whistle of wind through my ears. I am a force of nature and I write.

Write vs. submit: this doesn't need to be a conflict, but I've been feeling stymied. So, I had a great talk with a friend who's part of my support team, and saw that what matters the most is that I write. That I write for the pure joy of it. So, for the last hour, I've been working on Chapter 12. Not new content -- I'll get there -- but editing and actually fleshing out a scene I had only alluded to. I'm adding color and feeling to the relationship. H. is becoming, as Michael Hauge would say, more in her essence and leaving her identity behind.

I'm working on rewriting book 2, even though book 2 isn't finished. The rewrites are helping me see the story. I will finish. I need to finish it, because I want to submit book 1. Finishing book 2 will help me determine more details for book 1. I learn the story by writing it. That's my way, and I need to honor that.

I'm getting ready to submit again! Because I was at the RWA National conference in San Francisco, and picked up leads to an agent and an editor. I"ll keep you posted.

I've forged ahead and edited Chapters 8 and 9 for my critique group. I'm surprised at what I've crafted, so many months ago. It's good to look at it fresh. I think I'm ready to keep editing forward and complete the first draft. That's a good feeling. I'm relieved, and also know I need to ground the when of writing more.

Right now, I will declare that I will complete the book soon. I will put my attention on it more often. I will. You'll see.

Writing is Rewriting and Editing -- But you knew that, right? N'est-ce pas? (Isn't that so?) It's my blog so I will write in French if I want. I do speak and write the language. What I don't understand is how I can edit an almost 2000-word chapter, and still feel, well, not finished. Could it have something to do with the fact that I only edited Chapter 1 out of 20 so far written of the newly titled manuscript? Or could it be that I can't simply pat myself on the back for a job well-done? So, in front of you'all, my invisible audience, I will formally take action to tell myself, Job well done, Dora. You did it. You edited The D.S. (Title under wraps. I'm not ready to reveal it yet.)

Okay, now that that rant and hug combined is out of the way, I want to reflect on this writing process. A revelation came out of my conversation with P today. Many revelations come out of our weekly meetings; I love that. This revelation is stunning because it ties together my writing fiction with my other work, which I'm not ready to talk about yet. Suffice it to say that I write for my own personal odyssey. I write, edit and rewrite to grow as a person, to see what it is I am saying to myself. Do others do that? I don't know.

I mean, if I really worked hard at it, I could write fiction to please the masses first and me second, but that's not how I do it. I suspect many writers don't either. But the thing of it is, I don't care about the marketplace. Not really. I really do care about writing great fiction. But if I looked to the marketplace for a measure of what that was, I'd just get confused, yes, have been confused. Don't want to remain confused. But if I look deep into myself and see my characters there, and bring them out on the page as vividly, detailed and gritty as possible, then maybe, just maybe, I will be in love with the story. And just maybe others later will too.

So that's why I combed through Chapter 1 for over an hour, only 14 manuscript pages, and I stand corrected, over 3000 words. Whew! Girl, you did a lot! I added over 700 words. Yes, counting and tracking are important to me. Because clearly I downplay all my hard work. I work hard at my play. My play, my catharsis, my entertainment, my dream with eyes wide open -- fiction. Where I grow, learn, validate, and hopefully become closer to myself. Hopefully I come home.