So I was talking earlier about the novel I wrote during November for NaNoWriMo, and how I am going to be editing it.
Well I decided now would be a good time, before I get too busy at work. Except for one problem… I am scared.
As stupid as it sounds, I have never really edited my own work before. At least not on this scale. Normally when I write, I do corrections and improvements as I go along, but this time I deliberately wrote without stopping (as is the NanoWriMo way) and promised myself that I would correct all the mistakes in the editing stage.
Well, that stage is now upon us. And I have never embarked upon a project this big. Or this important. Before I could just pass it off by saying ‘It’s alright if the book is really bad, it’s only a first draft.’ Except that that is no longer true. Now I have to see whether I have it in me to turn this huge piece of literary junk I have created into a finely tuned work of literary genius. Now, if it doesn’t turn into something worth reading, then there is no one to blame, and no excuses of ‘Not edited yet.’
Bloody Hell. Why did I want to be a writer again?
“Yes, I would like some cheese with that whine”