The editing process can be grueling. You have to be cruel to yourself, almost masochistic. You have to cut, cut, cut! But first you need a sentence: I couldn’t go any farther and trying to do just that, forgetting which way to turn, thinking of nothing like that, drunk, not what I am in my head, fat in my stupid genius, a dreamed ecstasy with gilded mirrors, neon blue, stars on my hips and in my eyes, gold lines along the ceiling, wisteria, my toes out of their straps, my brilliant life. Well, yes, I must admit that does need a bit of an edit: I couldn’t go any farther and, forgetting which way to turn, thinking of nothing, drunk, I was lost in my head, a stupid genius,  thinking of gilded mirrors, neon blue, stars on my hips and in my eyes, gold lines along the ceiling, wisteria, all of it, my brilliant life. (It’s a start.) I couldn’t go any farther, drunk and, forgot which way to turn. I realized I was lost. I was stuck in my head, ecstasy in my head, gilded mirrors, neon blue, stars in my eyes, wisteria, all of it whirling. (Have I lost it already?) I couldn’t go any farther. I was drunk. There were gilded mirrors, neon blue, stars, wisteria, all of it whirling. (Is that what I meant?) I was drunk. Neon stars and wisteria spun around me. (Just that?) I was drunk. (No more?) Drunk. (Uh-oh.) And then…a black hole. Not even that. And I have to start again: I saw the wisteria...