Let me explain.
I am a perfectionist. I don’t want to be. I rather abhor it. But there it is.
Hence, every scene I edit in The Hushing Days I give my all to getting, well, perfect.
Yet the problem is, you see, there is no such thing as perfection. It doesn’t exist, at least not where we mere mortals can reach.
Realizing this, I have to restrain my efforts in the editing process. I could literally dither over a sentence forever. (Yes, when I die at the ripe old age of 92, please be sure to put The Hushing Days manuscript in the coffin with me. The second scene in Chapter Two still needs some tweaking. Seriously. That’s my thought.)
So, I must economize the use of my brain. Spending decades on a throwaway thought is not viable. (There lies the path to madness and all that rot.)
It’s been a struggle, but I’m drawing the concept ever nearer…
Of course I haven’t got my arms quite around the bugger yet, so excuse me while I go dither around with Chapter Two, Scene Two again.