When you turn around and try to rewrite and finish a 730 page manuscript which you have been working on intermittently for ten years–it is a feat of will. I am a changed writer now–hopefully a better one–and I see the world differently than I did in any of the previous stages of writing the book. The book is the first part of a trilogy and it can’t end up being more than 400 pages long, preferably 350. So I wade in with a chainsaw because this is meatball surgery, triage, to start. Pick the parts with the will to live and cut, cut, cut away the rest. Amputate and relocate the living organs, sew the body back up again and hope the remaining flesh might recover and flourish. After that, I have to make it readable. But she won’t die on the table. Her heart is unbearably strong. And I believe in her.