Today. I broke a rule. I promised myself to stay focused. To not stray away from. To become weak. To sell out to being what I've always been. A perfectionist. The writing of my new book. People think words fall from the sky. If that's the case. May I buy a case of buckets? Stay focused. My battle cry. Keep from having to revert back to new beginnings. It will be there when you are finished. But did I listen? I chose instead. To recognize. The guy I am. The writer inside. Wasn't within the same rhythm and tone. Shared those days. When words were spirits having flown. Gone! Gone! Gone! First the simple words. Gone! A sentence. I reconstructed a paragraph and got high. High off the challenge of getting to redesign. It took me thirty five years to publish the book that kept me in school. I kept changing ideas. Layouts were boring. I stumbled and fumbled. I no longer could see eye to page. So I elected to change. And change. And change. It's not good that I went back and reshaped the landscape of the first in chapters. Melodic might be my rhyme. But the timing is way off. I have until February 2014 to break this book free. Editing isn't free. The expense is common sense. I love what I rewrote! But how will I feel in sixty to one hundred days. I broke a rule. I didn't stay focused. I chose instead to bring a knife to the computer screen. Cutting loose what could've been a readers most favorite part. What do I know? Except the moment. It fell from the sky.
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