I haven't written much in the last few weeks, for several reasons.
In the few months since starting this little venture, I've learned something I've suspected all along: when I craft something, even if it's just a string of words thrown together, it's mine and no one else's. It's like my baby, born from my brain-womb, taking its first toddling steps on a screen.
Yet, at the same time, sometimes I have to look at these screen-babies and say "this is awful, this is terrible and just needs to be completely re-written." I'm destroying my babies because they're ugly, and replacing them with prettier little angels that don't make me recoil in horror every time I hear them aloud (fun fact - I do run my stories through my computer's voice program every few weeks because it helps me edit).
What an awful metaphor.
So here I am, stuck because I just realized that the last, like, 30 pages of N2N need to be rewritten. Completely. Start from scratch, because that baby was ugly as sin. And now, I'm slogging through it, trying to find something, anything redeeming enough to keep.
Maybe sometime I'll post a rough 'preview' of what I'm writing. No one knows about this blog yet, which is liberating in a way. I'm not sure how comfortable I am with the idea of a 'readership,' but writing this here helps remind me to stay on track, because that might be important someday.
Until then, I'll gripe here about all the roadblocks.
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