Wow, it's amazing how much perspective a year can give you. I started a short story last February about a woman whose father, with whom she had a very complicated relationship, died. A month after I started writing that story, my mom died unexpectedly at 62. I couldn't even look at that story again until late last summer, and made a half-hearted attempt at editing. Then another short story took up my brain, and then my aborted NaNo attempt, and then my third novel.

I finally opened the file on the story again this week, and the time spent away has really been useful. I'm seeing things I completely missed the first time, and I can actually deal with the subject matter without getting too emotional. My perfectionist, type-A, INFJ personality likes to get things done, settled, finalized. I hate leaving things open ended. But in this case, it was a good lesson for me about patience and the practice of editing.

Word-hoard
galeanthrophy: the delusion that one has become a cat