Now that I have turned my novel in to my agent, I'm turning back to some things I was working on before I really dove into the revision.

There are a lot of unfinished stories and other projects littering my mental universe. I have notes in various formats: an old composition notebook, bundles of notes on yellow 6x9 pads, bundles of note cards, crumpled sheets quickly scribbled on at work or while doing something else, emails to myself, even text generated by Dragon Naturally Speaking when I was unable to see after my eye operation...not each of these is done by a different personality, but it is still disturbing to come across having forgotten the original moment of thought.

I also have unfinished drafts, sometimes multiple ones.  Sometimes I have forgotten why I restarted, or what I was after with the new approach.

The one advantage is that I have completely forgotten how much work is invested in each piece, and so can look at them a bit dispassionately, seeing only how much work remains to get each one to submittable quality--or abandon it as not worth further investment.

But, jeez, there are a lot of them. My life has been in disorder for longer than I consciously realized, and big changes have been going on that I only recently really gotten to grips with. And these changes are far from complete.

I hope I have some time this weekend to bring order to this obsessive mare's nest.  I leave for my annual hike next week, and when I come back from that, don't want to return to something that looks like case files from a competency hearing....