Gazpacho‘s done as much it can be. It was submitted because I felt comfortable that it had gone as far as it could in its best direction.
Now I think When The Crows Gather is at that point (though I did find that little technical glitch luckily, even after I had rewritten and edited and redirected for a week and called it done) as well.
So I turned my attention back to one of my favorites that had also been sitting in the "Finished Stories" folders on the hard drive. Few. Hmmm. I’m already up to Draft #8, and I don’t renumber a draft for minor changes. I’d forgoten that I had actually done a lot of work on changing it a while ago. In reading that latest draft, I didn’t feel too bad about it; I really liked what I’d done with it so far. So what needed to be changed? Well, there ere a few things I saw and started working on, but there was nothing that obviously hit me.
But then, just a few minutes ago, in one of those dark garage, coffee and a smoke moments, it did hit me. What this story needed perhaps–and this I had played around with a bit in my mind–was a conversation between Few, the garbage heap, and Raggyman, the wandering college student, that revealed them a bit more, that forged a bond. The answer came to me: Marquez and his Remedios. Or perhaps Octavio Paz and his story, My Life With the Wave.
Can a surreal character intelligently discuss surrealism? Or is he in fact the best choice.
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology