My Voice, For What It's Worth

Good news: I've been editing the first draft of my next novel. In the course of these edits, some of the underlying problems with the plot & character motivations have become clear, as have the solutions necessary to address those problems. In needs tighter pacing, more compelling dialogue, and a better ending, but there are parts of what I've written that could (in the right light and with the right amount of scotch) be mistaken for decent writing. Because of that, I feel OK.

Bad news: I spent this morning singing at the funeral of a friend who died unexpectedly. She was a smart, talented, devoted, and stylish woman, someone I'd sung with in our church choir for years and years. The last time I saw her (a week ago), she was smiling and in conversation with someone. I didn't interrupt them to say hello, but figured I'd catch up with her later. I had no idea that I'd never see her alive again. Because of that, I feel like I let her down, and will never have a chance to make it right.

The thread that connects these is my Voice/voice, such as it is - the words I string together on the one hand, the chord-flapping sounds I make on the other.

There are only so many words in the dictionary. There are only so many notes on the scale.

Dynamics, harmonics, rests, tempos, blends, solos... after years of practice, sometimes - sometimes - I can actually convey what I want to convey.

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Help keep the words flowing.