Yes, I said i wasn’t going to do this but I don’t have a choice… I think.
I said that I was going to start editing and I did start, but I can’t do this. To edit, I need to literally become a hermit. Editing sets the fate of the book for me, and I have so much riding on this. But I can’t do it in between work breaks, and with an exhausted state of mind when I’m back at night. I can write anywhere, like I don’t even need a ritual for that… any spare time i get is my writing time. When cooking, in the bathroom, in a noisy place, it doesn’t matter to me. But editing… that’s an entire beast on its own.
That’s where the magic has to be conjured…it’s where i find myself awake at the dead of the night, without a trace of exhaustion anywhere around me. I’m in the world; I’m sensing the smells I missed when I was writing, the sore, pink cut on the side of the character’s finger because he or she is the most careless person in the world, the missing button from a shirt, the slight smudge of lipstick. These little things that turn it from just a story into reality.
You can’t do this in a crowded room, or in between work breaks. AT LEAST I DON’T WANT TO.
So I’ve decided to keep on writing. Within three weeks or so I’ll get to another 50,000 words, and then I will start editing. That scares me because how can you EDIT 100K words at a stretch but right now that seems like the only option I have. Here’s where I currently am.
I’ll keep on going… SIGHS!!! but YAY!!!. I know that I’ll regret this later.