By the middle of the spring, I’d gotten about 100 pages written. As I’d learned, time gives you better perspective, and I had decided to put the manuscript away. I’d sworn to not look at it for two weeks.
While I waited, I had considered changing the title to ‘The Third Chapter’. It would relate to the content of the book, in an abstract, stages-of-life, kind of way. And it would hold a special symbolism for me; with it being the third rewrite.
In the end though…I stayed with Denver Nights.
I didn’t want to kill it.
The fucking book was so palpable by then it may as well have been alive.
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