On Writing & Storytelling: Working Through Tiredness to Revise Chapter 14, Scene V, of Reunion: Coda

Late Afternoon/Early Evening, Thursday, April 18, 2024, Madison, New Hampshire

Well, it’s been nearly five hours since my last post, and my Thursday has turned out to be a “mixed bag.” The weather turned sour ahead of schedule; the sky was graying by the time I finished a quick lunch of Quaker Instant Oatmeal, and it was drizzling when I tried to step outside for some fresh air and quiet contemplation.

And, as I predicted, I didn’t start working on Reunion: Coda until just past 3 PM. I was (and still am) tired, but I was determined to work through it. I reminded myself that I’m 61, not 16, and that giving up and taking a day off was not an option. The novel is not going to write itself, and if I take a day off after every time I have a restless night – well, in that case, hell will freeze over before I can announce a firm publication date.

Today’s abbreviated work session was productive, though. Scene Five of Chapter 14 is, blessedly (and necessarily) short, and most of it was good “as it was.”

However, after re-reading the scene with care and deliberation, I realized that it needed to have a little more sensory detail to make it more vivid and realistic to the reader. So, after looking back at the relatively few times that I’ve shared a bed with a woman and thinking about how Jim Garraty would describe being in the same bedroom with his new love, Maddie, I added a few descriptive passages about the room, the environment, and Maddie’s bedtime routine:

With a fluid motion, Maddie flicks on the lamp on her nightstand, bathing the room in a warm, amber light that softens the edges of the encroaching night. She opens the top drawer of her nightstand with practiced ease, retrieving a well-worn hairbrush. Sitting up on her side of the bed, she runs the brush through her hair, the bristles gliding with a familiar rhythm, each stroke reflecting years of quiet nights and contemplative moments before sleep. Her movements are swift, almost mechanical, a nightly ritual performed with an air of absent-minded proficiency.

As the early spring night whispers its lullaby, Maddie puts her hairbrush back into the drawer, then reaches out to the lamp, her fingers gently coaxing it off. The room succumbs to darkness, save for the city lights and silvery moonbeams that dance faintly through the window. She turns to me, her lips meeting mine in a chaste and tender kiss, a silent promise of affection and shared tomorrows.

I wrote a bit more than that, of course, but that bit is one of my favorite parts of Chapter 14, Scene V.

I’m still tired, but I also believe I did a good job with the revisions.