Eleanor Tatum

Subtitle: The Dreaded Edits…Phase Three in Creation of Golden Leaf

I liked phase one. Research is like digging for gold or more likely potatoes. The thrill of the find is stimulating to my imagination, but dangerous to my focus. While interviewing senior citizens (younger-behaving  than me, chuckle) who have worked in the North Carolina tobacco fields, I was tempted to write a love story, the down on the farm type, but the bugs and humidity brought me back to my senses.

I enjoyed phase two; the yellow pads, the sticky notes, the rough drafts. I outlined first and returned often to change the plan. The scribbled out names and plot changes are truly artistic. The only time I was ill at ease concerned the death of a good guy. It had to be dramatic and upsetting to my normally steady “she-ro”. It was sad to see him go. He started out in Silver Cotton as a meanie, but we are all worthy of redemption.

Egad! Phase Three… my poor neighbors. Soon I’ll be on the back porch reading a scene.  out-loud. I hear my mistakes more efficiently than silent study hall times. I will write  acknowledgements to my researchers, my Beta Readers, and the fun I had in the British Museum. Now, there’s a story!

Sometimes, I get to read out loud on my pier; the one in my swamp. Doesn’t everyone have their own? You know to what I refer; dapping in Gray Lace, or Spanish moss. The alligators, ducks and turtles listen and are amazed or leave. The fire ants stick around, hoping I’ll be dumb enough to walk through their domain. Yes, I did.

Now, that I’ve edited these paragraphs, I realize that maybe, just maybe, phase three will be almost as much fun as the first two. Not including the fire ants.

Enough!