“That’s the thing about making a movie: You never finish editing. They just take it away from you.” ~ Abel Ferrara
Editing. The bang of any writers existence. I effing hate it. Seriously. Any and all expletives do apply to editing.
I have spoken at length about how NaNo quickly stomps out all writing OCD because the goal is to get the words out of your head and whatever medium you use. No matter the cost. That usually comes with poor grammar, repeated words, even run on sentences, and characters names changed mid script. Hair pulling is also an added bonus as you sit down with your novel and wonder what the hell you were thinking.
Or perhaps maybe the better question is what the heck you were on. It also comes with the realization that perhaps you were;t on anything, but you definitely were probably sleep and caffeine deprived.
Seriously their are times as I read my draft, and I wonder if I had a personality change. Or if my characters were just being petulant teenagers deciding to throw tantrums and break the curfew I set for them every so often.
Editing also has the uncanny knack of making you feel pretty inferior as a writer. I should clarify that the complex comes with first drafts.
And that is what I keep reminding myself, as I tear through my script like a tornado. Deleting, adding, undoing, and basically mutilating the whole thing. It was and is a first draft.
A first draft that I completed. That in of itself is a huge accomplishment.
While my perfectionism and OCDness is in over drive, and I think myself a failure as a writer, at least I sat down and I wrote. At least I took that chance. That is more then many people take. It is more then many can say.
Yes it might be crap. Yes, I might have to revise the whole thing. Yes it will probably nowhere near resemble what I finished the end of November. Heck, their is a great chance I have to do all of this several times before it might be deemed “Acceptable” by agents and publishers.
But. I. Did. It.
A friend of mine, who also happens to be bestselling author told me, “To write.” A blank page does not make one a writer. Putting words on that page regardless of how zany they are, does. That is what NaNoWriMo is about. Pushing myself to get it out. It doesn’t have to be perfect. It probably won’t be.
But at least I took the chance. At least, I am now at the part of the process that I hate and I can acknowledge that. Ad I have the privilege of moaning and groaning about it.
While yes, I feel like I am the worlds worst writer at the moment, I at least wrote something. I attempted a dream. That in the end is worth it all.