I'm sitting muttering to myself as I contemplate the tatters of a manuscript...all that remains of 64,000 words. It's the second book of the New Blood series that I'd put aside before going to New Zealand. At the time, I'd thought it just needed a rewrite, a bit of cut and paste and a polish to be ready for the publishers.
Now I realize the magnitude of the task.
What does this have to do with the lady at the centre of the Thousand and One Nights?
She survived, not by the number of stories she knew, but by her craft in telling them. "New World" is a good story, but I'd allowed myself to be gulled by its connection to "New Blood" and depended on the credit and knowledge already established instead of crafting it as if it were completely fresh.
Damn!
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