I’m writing a book! I have no idea if it’s good, but I have to start somewhere or I’ll let a crisis of confidence be a personal ball-and-chain.
Every morning I scribble: at least 500 words, some of it terrible. Oh well. I take time every week to edit. That’s the serious writing time; because writing is about revising something 20 times and then being told by an editor that you need to revise it at least fifteen more times.
I’m stacking up rejections pretty faithfully on the side, but I’m determined not to tinker with the stories looking for homes. If I get 50 form rejects each, then maybe they’ll go to the trunk.
So tomorrow, it’s coffee shop time for serious edits and organizations. I work best in the morning, as the tiny sticky-fingered creatures in my house demanding food or something tend to occupy my days.
Once more unto the breach dear friends, once more; Or close the wall up with our English dead.