Hatchet and scalpel

It's not in the writing, it's in de-writing
I have begun the process of "de-writing" portions of Judas Christ. Two chapters have fallen under hatchet and scalpel. Aside from the fact that it's not in the writing, but in the re-writing, I have several reasons to re-write:

1. The first chapters were written over 18 years ago.
   My writing style has changed tremendously. Mostly for the better, though my first chapter did have a travelogue lyric quality, not unlike an Antarctic version of "Of Mice and Men." I used florid if not overgrown descriptions to imbue if not innundate my readers with a wistful fondness of my newly found Christianity. Not that I had any readers. It was hand written and looked like Arabic in a mirror. I'm now more Steve Austin than Jane Austen, so my writing needed to get out the hedgetrimmers and mow, mow mow...
   
   
2. The writer's conference gave me a realistic view of my own writing style
   I'm not going to enumerate this, as I still have a lot to learn. But picture a guy finding a set of golf clubs and balls, trying to learn to use them. Then, one day, he watches golf on TV. He's already better before he gets out of the chair.
   
   
3. Removing Abby and T7S
   This is going to be harder than I thought. I think (and feel) that I can write a tight yet poignant replacement for what the Seventh Sign brought. As I have said, much of what I was going to use was added bymy own delusion anyway. It wasn't in the movie. The readers who never read what I wrote as the sequel will never miss it. But I will.

The first two chapters have gone quickly, because that is just paring and repairing. I described it as "cutting the fat off a pork chop. It's easy to find, and you don't need it anyway." They went from 6,879 words in two chapters, to 4,931 in one, leaner, stronger, tighter, more vocal, less cerebral Chapter 1. That which was Chapter 2 (which was my first ever written chapter) went from 2,203 words to a 731-word addendum to Chapter 1. And it doesn't take a rocket scientist to understand it.

The Butterfly Effect, except the butterfly has a sword!
The next chapter will need to take the severed or frayed neurons of my version of T7S and re-wire them such that they still let the chapters downstream work. A tiny change early means a big change later. It's the Butterfly Effect.

One example is that in my version, Avi wrote "The Book of Abby" which told the whole tale of the movie. It was in part Avi's response to David tell him to "Remember it all, write it down, tell it." So he wrote a book. But I was also writing a sequel for a book that never existed. The Book of Abby was a long chapter designed to spin up the reader who never saw the movie.

But in the 2nd book of JCX, one character refers to The Book of Abby as he talks to Father Lucci, and recognizes him as Cartaphilus. Ok, so... if I can't WRITE the book of Abby, how does he know who Lucci is? That's one of my problems, but I have time. So off I go. Mellow-D asked me "How does it feel to re-write my old writing?" I'll tell you...

An analogy featuring a motorcycle (duh)
In August, 2002, I was returning from Sturgis Bike Rally on my bike, on which the starter motor had failed. I couldn't shut off the bike. I ended up riding INTO the backside of a dry land hurricane. I had on my helmet, my raingear, leather jacket, a turtleneck, an orange t-shirt, and a white sport-wick shirt. I rode into this... Despite all of my protection, I got soaked to the bone. My orange shirt ran dye onto the white shirt. I rode through Waukesha about the time that it was raining 2" per hour. I spent 2 hours in that. But I kept riding, and finally emerged in front of the storm. Without taking a single second more than I needed to fuel, I bolted to Chicago.

When I reached the first toll booth at 4:30 am, I was soaked and shivering, but worse, the raingear held IN the water, and my raingear and leather weighed 16 tons. I paid the toll to the woman, and I realized that she was wearing a tank top and was sweating. "What is the temperature out there?" "Probably 74 degrees."

I pulled out and the the side, leapt off my running bike and began peeling my waterlogged gear. When I stripped off my shirt, I felt the warmth and humidity that was like a desert wind compared to where I had just been. I rolled off in just my dry t-shirt, letting my prune-like skin desiccate. I felt lighter and nimbler than 15 minutes before. My exhaustion lifted for a while, and I screamed home.

Set Free, Moving On
When I got my brain blit of Judas Christ, I was a different person. The year before had me going through a divorce, bankruptcy, my mother dying. I was torn in my relationship, jobless, helpless, hopeless, homeless and had THE WORST car in the history of man. My church kicked me out for either dating after divorce, or because of a non-fiction book I was writing, depending on the telling. I had my Savior to protect me, but I still got soaked in the storm. I carried that sopping garment for nearly 15 years. A butterfly with a sword cut me out of it, and I'm set free!

What I wrote then was written by a man slogging around wearing the burden of the storm's aftermath. What I am writing now is from a man, running on the beach.