I did it.

I sent off fifteen pages from chapter three and a one-page overview from my memoir-in-progress. It’s gone to my fellow students who will be attending the memoir workshop in Taos, New Mexico.

I’ve been registered for this workshop forever. And the deadline for sending in these 15 pages has been known to me forever and a day.

And the deadline is tomorrow.

At what point do you think I started the process of deciding what to send?

If you guessed this afternoon… you get a big fat gold star.

I apparently operate under the premise that the imminent deadline is the impetus to start the project.

Unreal. I’m not saying I just wrote the stuff, but I had not given ANY thought to which 15 pages would really be representative of the manuscript.

In reading through them – for the last few hours – I realize that there are wild variations in the voice, the manner in which it’s presented, in fact, absolutely every aspect of each chapter diverges from the one before.

The only consistency is the very inconsistency of the thing. WTH?

So, how does one send something representative when obviously no such section exists?

I subscribe to the random theory of chaos. It’s done.

I am having a bath.

And then I have to decide what I’m bringing to my writer’s group…we meet tomorrow morning.