The Editing Never Ends

It seems like every time I read a passage of The Road of Fathers I want to change something.

Part of being an artist and writer is to always strive for perfection. But another part is being able to let go. It’s truly difficult to walk away when you know there are hundreds of tiny things you would want to change.

As I continue to draw on George Lucas for examples, I remember when he revisited the original trilogy and altered them. Most of his true fans were mortified and angered. They saw this as blasphemy, as if someone had rewritten integral parts of their own bible. I never faulted him for it, though. It’s true that I have a special place in my heart for the original version, with all their clunkiness and primitive effects. But to me, and millions of other kids, it was real. And it meant something to me.

After seeing them in their newer versions, I was underwhelmed. Most of the changes were minor and insignificant. The ‘Han Shot First’ debacle notwithstanding, they were made more to appease the creator’s own tastes.

But, here again, the argument can be made that once an artist walks away from a piece, it is no longer theirs. Once a song is released, it belongs to the listener. Once a painting is hung, it belongs to the viewer. Once a play is performed, it belongs to the audience.

I guarantee you that an artist, given the chance, will always go back and fix things.

One of my favorite playwrights, Sam Shepard, swore in his early twenties that he would never rewrite a play once he had finished it. His argument was that the initial product was the most honest version of it. Flash forward thirty some years and he is directing and REWRITING one of his most famous plays, True West. We all grow wiser.

So, as I prepare for publishing The Road of Fathers, I am quickly approaching that point where I must walk away.