the butcher’s knife

10 July 2006

It has begun, in earnest. Simon and I spent last weekend getting things in order, righting some wrongs I’d committed with the Jetsam script (one bit of beach looks very much like another to a city boy! as for what order they should go in…) and discussing the feel that we’re after. I’d already started the pruning process (it’s got to come down from two hours to more like 90 minutes) when Simon’s notes arrived today. Suffice it to say there is blood on the cutting room floor.

I’ve always been terrible at editing my writing. At university I read, read, read and read some more; took pages of notes, ordered them and wrote my essays longhand in one go (pre-word processing for the masses, we’re talking 1990-93). Absolutely no editing whatsoever; once the words were on the paper that was it, I couldn’t see any other way that they could be ordered. So being forced to reevaluate my work, rethink the instinctive decisions I took the first time is really challenging and enjoyable.

Now, where did I put my cleaver…?


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