Post Snippet; editing

Reading is a journey. It takes you from A to B and along the way you learn things and change the way you think, even if it's just a little. Writing is like laying a path for that reader to follow. It doesn't really matter if the stones aren't shiny or if they don't fit so well, or if there are cracks in the mortar. Don't worry, the reader will skip, hop and jump if they need to. Readers are really quite intrepid beings.

If you don't finish laying that path, however, they will never realise that it's there. Indeed, it won't be, and the scenes and delights and adventures they would have along that road will never come to pass. The worst thing, though, is that the they will never know the wonders at the journey's end. They will never witness the splendour of that dream, never behold the otherworldly sights, never understand the meaning of that place.

In the end, it doesn't matter if the path is dirty when it's freshly laid. It doesn't matter if the stones are wonky or the tar bubbles in the sun. What matters is that it's straight, and that it's there. Because that path leads to a dream, and as long as the path exists, the dream exists at the end of it.

You can always sweep up the next time you come through. And you'll whistle that time, because you know you're not trying to set right a ruin, not trying to build again, but rather you'll be cleansing something beautiful so that the colours shine through.

And when you're done, you can hang a sign on the gate, so those brave souls know it's there.