Last night I decided to take a look at my manuscript for the first time since turning in the copies to my committee members. I re-read the preface, and began flipping through the pages looking for excerpts to read aloud at the defense.
And I know I’m writing about grief, and death and cancer, but geeeez everything is so heavy, so serious. Where is the humor I was going to sprinkle throughout? Where are the lighter scenes that were supposed to provide emotional balance?
And why didn’t I fix that clunky passage? Why did I think white space made for a good transition? Does that scene really belong there?
At the defense I will be asked to first talk about my process, the creation of this thing called my manuscript which is still a work in progress. Then I will be asked to read an excerpt aloud. For ten minutes, I think.
I could read the first chapter, that would be the easy choice. It has context, it sets the stage, so to speak, for what comes next. I’d also like to read something that includes my sister since she’ll be in the room… but maybe that will be too hard to do.
The thing I’m worried about most is that I will cry. I’ve already teared up at Elizabeth’s defense, and at Tanaya’s defense. The whole thing, the process, the work, the future, is overwhelming emotionally. I’m proud of my achievement, and so glad my sister will be here with me, but I can’t help but wish my parents were here to celebrate with me too. (Though who’s to say I would have taken this path had they been alive.)
The defense–in some ways even more so than the graduation ceremonies–marks the end of a chapter. The defense is the culmination of the work I came here to do. The graduation is just pomp and circumstance, and while I understand the need for ritual, for ceremony, the desire to wear a black polyester gown and a funny hat, the defense marks the completion of an important milestone for me as a writer. I have a fully formed draft of a book I’ve been working on in some way since 2005. I have an idea of what the story is and I can see a shape to the narrative. Putting the work into a physical form, printed pages coil bound that I can touch, and carry around with me, make notes on, has helped me see what needs to be done yet. I even already, before my committee has made a single comment, have my own list of To Dos for the manuscript.
Ugh.