Editing is Pain

Editing is a pain.

This much is true.

Having to face my own writing and determine what parts of my blood and sweat should be taken out, replaced, destroyed or reworked... it's pain. Each word was wrenched out of ME. It's part of ME. How can I analyze it for flaws?

They say you should love yourself for who you are, but I have to edit who I am because I'm not a body. I'm a body of works, of words, of stories. All enhanced by caffeine.

While I write, I go full-on drama llama. I yell out that I suck so bad. I let my fabulous hubby correct me, and I argue with him.

When I edit, I have to face the truth.

What if I really DO suck? What if my writing really IS horrible? What if I was right?

I finished my edits of Too Wyrd today. I tried procrastinating at the halfway point, but I eventually got it done.

It's really not so bad.

In fact, it's kinda great.

But don't tell my husband...