The Manuscript Drips Red

Legends of Windemere

Fry from Futurama

Returning to the words
That have gestated and grown
Will they work
Or reveal my first draft stumbles?
Music turned on
To break the itching silence
As I sit down to peruse
And carve out broken bits
Fix a sentence here
Delete a word there
Bursts of progress
That feel draining to the mind
Not as much to change
As you dreamed and feared
The story is solid
Which chills you to the bone
The rule emerges
To scrap most of what you did
You see others swear
That this is how it goes
Anxiety takes hold
And you let the red ink fly
Unsure if your editing is true
Or misguided by doubt

View original post

2 thoughts on “The Manuscript Drips Red


Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.