Waking up with poetic words. Subconscious is saying "Write, dammit!"

I wish I liked rewriting more.

I mean, some onerous tasks aren't that hard for me.  For instance, I could see how making my monthly orders for the store might be hard, but I kind of like it.

But I'd much rather write something new than sweat over an existing manuscript.

Anyway, I'm putting my hard copy of Sometimes a Dragon into digital, and rewriting it while I'm at it.  Ironically, the first half of the book, which I radically cut and rewrote, was fun to do.  Probably because it was a lot like writing a first draft.

The second half of the book which doesn't require major changes, just a change of tone, is more like typing and I'm finding it agonizing.  I thought I'd do it in easy installments, but I'm getting bogged down.

I woke up this morning with poetic words churning through my mind -- the beginnings of a poem perhaps, something creative.  Phrases like, "crumpled water" and "divvied air" and "mangled air."

What that says to me, is that my subconscious is trying to get my attention.  It's shouting -- "Write something, anything!"

So I'm going to do what I'd hoped to avoid.  I'm going to push the rewrite of Sometimes a Dragon and finish it in as short of time as possible.  This will be work -- this will be ditch digging.  This will be pulling weeds.  This will be sweaty ugly work.

But it's got to be done, so I can move on...