An Ode to Revisions. Sorry not Sorry.

Summary of the following ode:
I think I should do revisio-SQUIRREL!

Ahem. Without further ado, An Ode to Revisions:

At journey’s beginning
Our grass shimmered in gold.
Dreams: ours for the winning.
Plans: impossibly bold.

And again and again
Those fingers lithely flew
‘Cross keyboards, end to end,
Each line glowed fresh and new.

But we were young and unafraid
And dreams were made and used and wa-
Wait, wait, wait. This sounds familiar. Have I heard this before? Read this before? Seen this before? Oh, you mean my novel is simply a compilation of every story I’ve heard/read/seen in my life rolled into one, and not some fantastical entirely original next big thing? Ah, I see. Well, in that case, plugging my ears once again. LALALA I’M NOT LISTENING!!! Anyhoo:

Summer left, autumn came.
With finished books to tote
The excitement remained,
And so, onwards we wrote.

Winter raced by us too;
In a storm, came and went.
Two more books were now through,
Though our poor wrists were spent.

Then spring! swept in at last –
A dear, lovely season –
Except… when writing’s past…
And beyond all reason,

You think it may be time
To go back to the start,
To gaze on word and rhyme,
Just – reviewing your art.

And fixing – no. No, no.
Stop and run away there.
Do these words have no flow?
Does this style have no flare?

What’s that awk run-on line?
Did I really write that?
That book just can’t be mine –
That character’s too flat.

Where’d that cliché come from?
That theme’s laid on heavy
And you want this book come –
June?? No! Stop! Not ready!

Can’t I just write some more?
A new sequel, or two?
What? “REVISIONS!” you roar?
Odes will just have to do.

8 thoughts on “An Ode to Revisions. Sorry not Sorry.

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