There’s a bit at the end of a writing project that I hate. Currently, I have the revamped Project: GREY outline at the top of the work queue. I’ve finished adding the new chapters to increase the length and expand character, but now there’s this awful bit before I start.
Making sure it all makes sense.
Lining up the bits and actions and motivations to ensure it all adds up.
It’s the housekeeping bit of writing. Putting all the cups and plates and forks away, folding the blankets, fluffing the pillows, and hiding all the My Little Pony fan-art. You’ve spent all this time buying the fancy cutlery, but now you need to make sure it can fit into your house.
It hate it.
It think it’s awful.
Because to me you’re dissecting the most honest part of writing. You’re not looking at your grammar or your spelling or going line by line. No, you’re being asked to critically analyze something much worse:
That’s so much more raw and personal than editing a first or fifth draft. You’re looking at the most exposed bits, the open flesh, to take it apart to put back together. It’s hard to say that an “idea,” a thought you had, is not good enough.
But that’s the job, right?
Thanks for reading,