There is a quote that an author never finishes a novel, just abandons it. I’ve abondoned my manuscript tonight. I’d guess it won’t last long. I’d called it finished last week an then turned right around and found 500 words to remove. In finding those words I became edgy about some key scenes. But after staring at them another hour, I had to turn away, or else I would tweak them forever. The difference between improving and tinkering is sometime so subtle its imaginary.  I had to force myself to walk away.

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