I opened my novel this afternoon, for the first time in a year, thinking now might be the time to reengage with it. But, in truth, it just grates with me now. My heart’s no longer in it.
Momentarily, I wondered if perhaps I should or could break it up, and present it anew. But no, I think it has run its course. It no longer appeals to me. I think events have blown it apart.
One more abandoned manuscript to add to the burgeoning pile. Just another mountain of words I cannot bear to revisit. Perhaps it’s time to start something new.
Last modified: 4 November 2023
