i’ve been reading through my novel lately and something very unconstructive transpired… an abundance of self-doubt and criticism!
here i am, i should be thankful that i even finished a damn novel, and all i can think is “this sucks”… “i hate this”…. “if i only changed this and this and maybe this”. this is not a healthy cycle for me to be in. i can’t even finish editing it because the urge to scrap it is so strong… the urge to rewrite big chunks of it is rampant in my mind… if i start playing that game, i’ll never be done with it. i think i just need to get rid of it… send it out AS IS and stop criticizing it, because i actually liked it at one time. i thought it was well written, even a couple of beta readers told me they loved it. but i am the kind of person that likes to wash their hands of things once they’ve been written, don’t like to look back, only forward. i don’t like to edit, i don’t like to read it again, and i don’t even like to look at it anymore. i just wanna create it and get rid of it… and unfortunately, novel writing doesn’t exactly work that way.
i don’t know… i can’t even write a proper blog post because i’m sitting here wondering what to do with this damn book! if i’m gonna make this writing thing happen i need to stop these deconstructive thought processes from happening, otherwise i’ll never get anything published, because it will NEVER be good enough.
anyway, that’s my pissing and moaning for the day… maybe tomorrow i’ll actually be able to write something worth reading! for now i’m going to la-la land where i will hopefully get to fly through cotton candy clouds and swim in chocolate rivers.