Hockey is to this Canadian as editing is to this writer

I've never liked hockey. (That may sound odd since I'm Canadian and that's our sport but it's true.)

The rest of my family feels differently. My Uncle B actually has seasons tickets to watch the Vancouver Canucks and (I think) everyone else in the family has watched a game from his amazing seats.

Last week at a family dinner to celebrate Mom and Grandpa's birthdays, my Uncle was trying to get rid of his tickets because him and my aunt weren't going to be able to make it. Everyone else was busy. My Grandparents were available but that meant there was one empty seat (there are three tickets).

Somehow despite countless, adamant, No's I got talked into going. I dragged my feet all the way to the Arena and into the VIP club section and down to the fourth row, just in front of the net (told you they were amazing).

The Detroit Red Wings and The Vancouver Canucks were on the ice, practicing.

I watched in awe at their effortless ability on skates.

(To understand my love of people on skates you need to know this: I used to figure skate (and I used to be so short that I totally pulled off the Munch-kin look from the Wizard of Oz) and I could watch figure skating for hours because I think it's the most gorgeous thing ever.)

I was already rethinking my opinion....during the practice. When the game started I felt myself sucked into the atmosphere, into the swelling and denouement's of the crowd. I'll be honest, I didn't always know what was happening - the great thing is, it didn't really seem to matter because I was watching and when I was confused I could lean over and ask my Grandparents to explain.

I could see the expressions on the players faces. I could feel (almost) the rattle of the plexiglass when the players were slammed into the sideboards.

My insides got all messed up when the Red Wings tied it and we went into overtime. When we lost during the shoot out, I was a little disappointed but not really because the game itself, the actual process, was so much more than I thought it would be. Watching a game in person is nothing like seeing it on TV. 

And, because I always tie these little stories into writing somehow, let me say this: I'm starting to edit my first draft this week and I am dragging my feet. I am dreading editing like I dreaded going to that game. Except a little worse because editing is a longer commitment.

My only hope is that once I actually start, when my characters pull me back into their world, that editing won't be as bad as I think it will be.

I may not 'win' the first time round but maybe I'll get a few good plays in.

Ever been dragged into something you thought you'd hate and have your mind changed? What part of the writing process to you dread?