Vising and Revising Were on a Boat: Project X

It’s weird that “vising” isn’t really a word, right? I’m up to my chest in revisions. Yes, I already revised, based on shit I saw. And then my beta readers got back to me and they both said very similar things and when they didn’t say similar things, they said different things about the same things.

It’s funny. The part I thought needed the most work seems to need the most straight-forward work. Add a couple of things and… ta da.

I’m not sure how the next parts are going to go. I’m kind of stressed about it.

Plus, holy shit, did I tell you guys what I’m doing next week? No? Well, I’m completely unprepared. So, I’m a little wanting to throw up about that. We can talk more about it when I’m feeling better about it.

Next week.

FUUUUUuuuuuuck.

“Is there anything soft left of you?”

I had a dream. I don’t remember what it was exactly, except for that in it, I was walking backwards across a field to try to get to two men who were having a conversation without startling them.

And that was the question the older one asked of the younger one: Is there anything soft left of you?

It woke me up. I felt like I had eavesdropped by accident on a question the Universe had for someone else.

Dreams are strange. Over the holidays I kept having this dream that I was introducing people to a very casual acquaintance of mine (I like him, but don’t really know him and our lives intersect maybe once every 18 months.) as “my old husband.” Not, “ex-husband.” “Old husband.” Like we’d been married in some other life.

When I was in college, I knew a guy I always felt I’d known already. Getting to know him, I experienced it all the time as “Oh, I forgot you did that.”

I don’t know. Brains are weird. They do their own things, make their own connections. I don’t think I really believe in reincarnation, but sometimes I wonder.

So, who knows? Maybe once someone asked that of me–is there anything soft left of you?–and now all there is is softness and yielding and giving way.