Meta: Rewriting, Editing, and Other Forms of Self-flagellation

I think of myself as a Renaissance Woman, someone who knows a little about a lot; someone with varied interests who enjoys learning about most of the things that cross my path. I like to think I know just enough to get myself in trouble. I certainly do not think I've mastered much in life.

I may finally have reached the level of maturity necessary to understand that true mastery includes not only the ability but also the desire to pull my own work apart and make it better. I was always happy with the first draft, the superficial take, the "looks like it" method. And, to be honest, that worked more often than not, so maybe it's not surprising that I was okay with that.

How funny it is to me that erotica is the realm in which I'm ready to do better, to expect more of myself. I am actually enjoying the editing process and am incredibly appreciative of the help I receive from friends willing to scrape through my prose with a fine-toothed comb.

At the moment, it's proving easier to edit existing works than it is to write new stuff. And that's alright. If there's anything I've learned in the past four or five years, it's that humans, like most things in nature, go through ebbs and flows, cycle through one thing or another. Now I am in the editing part of the writing cycle, later I'll be back in the writing part, wondering when I'll find the time to edit.

It used to be that editing was a chore. I didn't want to touch what I'd written. At least, that was true of prose. I've always enjoyed the process of breaking down and rewriting poetry, trying to find the perfect word or turn of phrase, trying to put it precisely where it belonged. Stories, however, have proved more difficult for me to take seriously, as though so many more words made each word less important, which is untrue.

Now the tension is not between the desire to write the next story and the desire to improve the last, but between the latter and the desire to share it immediately. Writing directly to the blog seems to resolve that tension: blog readers get to see the messy first draft, I have a daily excuse to write, and I can take my time editing later. The biggest con in the face of all these pros is the fact that I have less incentive to publish the polished product.

The truth, dear reader, may be that I'm afraid to do something I've never done before. I'm happy to edit because it's safe, it's something I know how to do now, and, as long as a work needs editing, I'm safe from having to try something I've never done before, and risk rejection.

Well, then, the truth is out, and that's alright. All part of the plan to push myself to take that risk. Tim to do the paperwork necessary to get paid and pay taxes on the income. That's the part of the professional writing cycle I'd like to skip entirely; I hate paperwork. But "Lesbian Assassin Book 1: Ray's Honey Pots" is 99% ready to publish and Rebecca, Rowan & Lucy are pretty pissed that I'm letting fear hold back their story.

Warmly,
Ms Myrrh