This week an interview with Leigh Bardugo was published in which she said, “I think the hard work of writing is just how long a book is terrible before it’s good.”
That’s a one-sentence summary of this post. 🙂
Writing a novel is a long, difficult journey full of emotions. Some days I’m thrilled with my work; some days it disgusts me. Sometimes I feel a sort of writer’s high; often I am in a slump.
But amidst all the join and pain of writing, I experience this level of … discomfort. Discomfort is probably the best word for it.
I’ve been thinking a little bit about it, and I have a few random thoughts. Do you care if I use bullet points? Thanks.
- My discomfort stems from having something incomplete. I understand that the nature of creation is that something is being created and that likely doesn’t happen in a moment. But I hate having messy drafts. I want to know that if I got hit by a bus today, something could still be done with my manuscript. (Gruesome much, Sommers?)
- I think this discomfort is a huge…
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