[Image: “The Manger,” c. 1900, Gertrude Käsebier, courtesy of National Gallery of Art, Washington, DC, Robert B. Menschel & the Vital Projects Fund. In the public domain.]
Moving a short story across the finish line can be a bit like settling an infant to sleep. A reader asked for an analogy, and this one, to me, seems valid: You are bringing a bundle of chaotic impulses into a stable state so that future growth can occur. You are listening to what that bundle of chaotic impulses needs, so that you can supply it.
To do it well takes attentive, but not hypervigilant, calm. If you yourself feel harried and frayed, this delays the arrival of something like peace. (Which is hard, because the delay itself can harry and fray you, when you are already feeling pushed to the limits of your endurance…)
I have in mind a longer craft talk on revision, in which this idea plays a part and which maybe I’ll post once I’ve given it, but my first priority right now is revision on stories: and revision means listening, and listening means quiet. (That said, I still love to hear your comments. It just might be a while until I get around to responding.)
“It is better to be silent and to be real than to talk and to be unreal.”—Ignatius of Antioch