So I'm nearly a year on from when I started writing this one piece.
One year. One whole year.
As a writer I've been on a journey. I've grown. Changed. Matured. My writing journey, along with my life journey has skewed off in directions I didn't see coming. I have barely subbed at all to the markets that made me the writer I am now, for months. For that I am sad. But that is not a 'novel' post. This is:
My journey in this year as a person and a writer have changed me. Now in edits, it's changing my novel. What once was 'finished' is now undergoing major surgery.
|Thug, or stylized killer?|
It has to be done. Where once I would have been happy with his thug behaviour, he is now becoming a nuanced killer. More damaged. Less predictable.
These re-writes are faster though. I understand the killer on the page. I understand myself. I understand my writing.
What am I trying to say?
Don't be afraid.
In part 6 I said I wasn't afraid anymore. I was striding. Conquering. Kicking ass. I didn't really think a week later it would lead me to this. The blood and tears shed when I read the completed first draft. Have led me here.
Somewhere around part 3 I hated my novel.
Soon, I expect to be proud of it.
Hack out the bad parts. Don't be afraid to kill it. It will be reborn from the ashes. Faster and stronger than before.
'Til next time.