The Middle

How big is the middle? If you’re driving to a cottage or another town in a big country like Canada, I’d say the middle of the trip begins when you get onto the highway. Whether you have an hour or 4 hours ahead of you, you’re in the middle.

And that middle lasts until you get off the highway and start negotiating local traffic on the other end of the trip.

All this is by way of letting you know where I am on the latest round of Camp FUNdament edits. I’m in the middle.

Which is a disappointment. This is supposed to be a line edit and I’ve been at it for a week. I should be done. But the middle is stretching and stretching. Traffic is moving very slowly. Is it volume? Is there an accident?

Actually, it’s both. And everything is my fault! I keep running into problems of my own making. My car stalled, then ran into an abutment, then got a flat tire. Clunky prose, slow development, meaningless detours. In one chapter, it took me pages and pages to get a point (well, a joke) that wasn’t even worth making.

Ugh.

Way-To-Go Erin’s analysis is calm and encouraging. “Bit slow in the middle, but it really picks up towards the end.”

I guess that’ll be the off ramp. I can’t wait to get there.