After spending the last few days (in-between cards, in-between music, in-between work) attempting to wrap u an unexpected 50 page interlude that itself up for camp right in the middle of my nicely planned novel, I was moved (not for the first time, but finally, enough times) to take a critical look at what the fuck I have been working on for lo these many years. Above you’ll see me working out page count, word count and then what they need to be. A lot of shit is going to have to get chopped, and I honestly…i feel that…I understand. I think I’m relieved to pay attention to those thoughts, but a lot of shit is going to die, and I don’t know how I’m going to do it. I am excited to know how much quicker the novel will move after this, but the task is daunting. As it stands, I’lll have to cut about 140 pages of material I spent months agonizing over. But that…doesn’t really matter. Throwing shit away is really important in any creative process. And if I want to sell this novel than I have to be mindful of what it is, as an object, and not some bloated “look at me” masterpiece. I mean, it’s that too, but you know what I mean.