So I finished my first read-through late-late last night.
While I still love this story, I’m no longer in the honeymoon phase. Dang. I really thought that would last longer. My perfect story is showing some cracks. My perfect story is requiring me to stand by it even though, since it’s not perfect, I’m suddenly filled with doubt. It’s pushing my buttons. You know which ones… those Uncomfortable Buttons.
Today I made it to about the half-way mark to incorporate those revisions, reject them, and find more. Finally I had to stop. There’s only so much badgering a writer can take, even when it’s coming from the writer.
For me, while there is some structure, writing is an inherently messy process. I put the words down and then need to figure out how to fix them. Make them come close to what I meant. It doesn’t matter how well I’ve planned them in advance, in some cases they’re wrong.
Like a visual artist who does her best to transfer her vision to canvass, I try to transfer mine to the page. There are bound to be disconnects. The editing and revision process is designed to try and find as many new “connections” as possible.
I keep telling myself that it’s okay. I’ve been here before. That between now and x-number of revisions later, the story will pull itself out of my ineptitude. That finally, when readers get to decide for themselves, they’ll find something worthy.
It’s all better with friends.