The first draft of The Salt Orchard opened at the funeral, with everyone in black and the wind off the marsh (sample).
By the third draft I had cut the funeral. By the fifth, the first thing on the page was the tide coming into the orchard, and the dates in the almanac.
The sixth draft changed one word. The dates had been written in a notebook; now they are in the almanac, because that is where my grandmother kept everything.