NaNoWriMo follow up

Warning: Contains me being positive and uplifting, supportive, cussing AND LOVE. (Taken from my tumblr)

So we’re 6 days into December and NaNoWriMo has come and gone. Holy crap. Time flies. Now though, I’m hearing a lot of people in the writing community complain about their “wins” and “losses” in November. 

Let me put it right out there in black and white for everyone: not hitting 50 k words in November is not a “loss.” IT IS NOT A LOSS. Hitting, meeting, or surpassing 50 k words in November is not a “win.” IT IS NOT A WIN. 

Do you see where I’m going with this?

The numbers and the deadline are arbitrary. Just because you were unable to pump out a first draft of 50,000 words or more in 30 days doesn’t mean that you’re “not cut out to be a writer”, or that “you’ll never make it as a novelist”, or that “you’re not good enough to write,” or any of the other negative things that you’re probably complaining about after your so-called “loss”. It means that maybe 50,000 words in 30 days doesn’t work for you. And that’s all right! Maybe your one story didn’t quite make it to 50,000 words. That’s also cool! Maybe November was a busy as hell month and you couldn’t devote the time to writing that you had anticipated. That’s perfectly all right, too.

And let’s look at the flip side of that! Just because you wrote 50k, or 100k, or, like some insane people that I know, 285k and beyond, well, that doesn’t mean that you’re gonna “make it” as a writer either. It doesn’t mean you’re “good enough” or that you’re “cut out” to be a writer. It means that you had a whirlwind month and one or more story ideas that seemed to magically flow from your fingertips onto the pages of your draft and into your computer or whatever the hell you use to write that many words in 30 days. (You insane, freaky ass cyborgs you.)

While yes, the feeling of accomplishment from finishing the first draft of your novel is a great thing, the point is to build good writing habits that should theoretically stick with you year-round. Making yourself the time to sit and write 1667 words a day (minimum) is the goal. They say that it takes 30 days of repetition for an action to become a habit. Oh look at that. Writing 1667 words per day for 30 days. Huh, seems like they were trying to reinforce the idea of making writing a habit, wouldn’t you agree?

Personally, I do NaNoWriMo every year. I have been participating for 4 years. And I participated in both “Camp NaNo” session this year. I have completed (and surpassed) the 50,000 word goal on every one of them. Out of those 6 sessions, only 2 works have been polished enough to merit submissions to anything. The third one is nearing completion but is getting cut down to around 35,000 words and will finish life as a “novella”. The other three things I’ve written are being completely discarded and reworked when I feel like delving back into them, which will likely never happen.

All of the works I’ve submitted have needed major polishing. Nothing was perfect right out of the gate. And, I’ve managed to keep the writing habit year-round, however. I write other things too, so there’s one good thing about being a “Wrimo”.

The point of it all is this: stop beating yourself up over an arbitrary number that dictates whether you’ve “won” or “lost” NaNoWriMo. Face it. “Win” or “lose”, you still ended up with more words than you had at the beginning of the month. And that is the goal in the long run. 

Wibbly-Wobbly, Timey-Wimey, ball of Editing... Stuff

Remember how I said I HATE EDITING? Like... a lot?

Well, I've found myself faced with a deadline for a submission, so I'm finally getting off my lazy-creative, busy-as-all-get-out butt, and am working on editing a novel I wrote just under a year ago.

Now, I love this novel. A lot. I love the content, I love the plot, I love the concept, everything. It's new, it's exciting, it's a genre blend and I don't have to worry about political correctness, or with censoring myself, and there's no way that it could be misconstrued as a YA novel. (Which is a joke and is better left off unexplained until another blog post because I don't feel like going on a tangent about THAT can of worms right now.) And I've been sitting on this particular gem for almost a year, so I'm pretty detached from the world I so frantically built. (Normally, I like to edit immediately, but that was out of the question for this one, which is, again, another story for another time.)

Anyway, the first draft -- because that's what it currently is -- ended up at about 77,000 words. I was honestly impressed with that number, and wondered how many of those words would need to be cut when I edited. (So far, I haven't cut any, but there's probably around 20,000 that need to be completely rewritten.) Then I found out that the submission guidelines are looking for 80-90,000 words but would consider works with less than that.

Ouch.

Okay, so 3000 words to make it to the minimum number isn't a lot, in fact, it's a number that I'm strangely comfortable with.

But if you know me, you know that I'm a bit of an over-achiever.

I decided to aim to add about 15,000 more words to the manuscript because, why not? My only question was "where do I put all those new words?"

So naturally, I fretted about it, and fretted about it, and sent myself into a mini panic attack and then figured out where to put all those extra words in the middle of the night when I couldn't sleep.

I decided that I would take my book's plot and split it into three sections, plus a prologue and an epilogue. (Because I love prologues. It's like a film teaser that warms up your audience and gets them excited before you bore them to death with back story and exposition. Ha ha! I'm an evil tease.)

Well, now you can see my problem: my plot. There's no real holes in my plot, but there are a few half-formed ideas that could be fleshed out and made more whole, more tangible, as it were. There's at least two characters who can be given a little more depth and dimension, and a few plot points that could be expanded upon. And, while we're at it, might as well give this world a bit of history, too.

Now it's looking like those 20,000 words that I was contemplating cutting get to stay with minor adjustments, because, why not? The ideas are there, and adding the extra words and splitting the story into three separate pieces means that each section has its own identity. It means that I can treat each section like a mini novel with a beginning, middle and end that leads into the next mini novel and so on.

It also means that I have to tear the manuscript apart and mess with its timeline.

It's one of my favorite things about being a writer, though. You get to pull apart your own timeline. You get to make it all wibbly-wobbly as you move pieces around to make a linear, coherent story. And, of course, there are fixed points in your story that you can't mess around with or else it creates a paradox!

My problem with this is that it is SO time consuming, and the copy and paste process of moving time around is kind of boring.

So basically, I put on a scarf and pretend I'm a TimeLord. I've gotta get back to this editing thing, before the world implodes.

Allons-y!

Kai Kiriyama lives in the frozen North, also known as Canada, with her pet snake Rhaegar. She is a novelist and a screenwriter (working towards publication) and is a regular contributor to Zombie Training Magazine. (www.zombietraining.com)

You can get in touch with Kai at any of the following locations:

Email: thekiriyamaheir@gmail.com
Twitter: @thekiriyamaheir
Facebook: www.facebook.com/authorkaikiriyama
Zombie Training: www.zombietraining.com

Milestone: First Rejection

I got my very first rejection letter today.

This is a new experience. I've been rejected before, for other jobs and whatever, but this was the first fiction story I've submitted to anything. Hence the first rejection letter I've ever received.

It was a simple, two line email that I made the mistake of reading before I was fully prepared to deal with anything today. [read: before I was properly caffeinated.] My initial reaction was to cry and to ostrich myself away forever. I didn't do either of those. My second reaction was to begin drinking immediately. But there was no alcohol in the house. I have since purchased some beer but have not started drinking yet, as I don't really feel the need to drown my sorrows with alcohol anymore.

I started to think about what this rejection means for me.

Well, first off, it means that I wasn't what the publisher was looking for. And that's okay. This was a short story that I had put an amazing effort into and yes, I'm pretty proud of how it turned out. I am smitten with my own ending. Definitely not something that I usually write, so that's a plus.

Secondly, it means that this story now has several options.

I could edit a bit more and submit it elsewhere, I could add more to the story and make it an actual novel (or novella if I'm feeling lazy) and submit it elsewhere, considering that it's a zombie story, I could probably get it cleared by ZT and have it printed in several instalments in the magazine, I could publish it on my blog for free reading...

The possibilities are not limited to what a single publisher is looking for. I am really only limited by my own time and imagination and drive to actually work on this story.

And that's all right, too.

I have a bunch of other projects on the go. Some are writing projects, some are personal projects, some are crafts, some are gifts... I'm really just limited by my own personal priorities and promises.

So now that I can look at this rejection with a clear head, and a more reasonable amount of caffeine in my bloodstream, what am I getting out of it?

Well, for one, I'm a little less cocky about it today. I went into submitting this story with full on confidence. I was utterly convinced that I was gonna get accepted and this would be my first official story published. My ego has taken a beating today and it's making me seriously reconsider my other works. Maybe I need a little more fine-tuning? Maybe I need to be more creative? Maybe I need to streamline my work? (I dunno how that last one is possible. I write screenplays that have no unnecessary scenes because I'm so to-the-point!)

I also realized that inflating my ego and being cocky is awesome. It makes the period of mourning about rejection a lot less brutal than it could be. I mean, I'm not crying. I'm not drunk. I'm sitting at my computer and I'm about to get back to work on another project while I decide what to do about this one. Being as cocky as I get means that the rejection hits hard, but I can bounce back pretty easily. It could be a lot worse. I don't deal with rejection well. You should see me when I get dumped. That's a horrible sight.

And is also a little bit off topic.

It means that I know that I can handle a rejection without spiralling into despair and madness (any more than I already am, anyway.)

It means that I have a story that could theoretically be submitted elsewhere and is fine tuned enough that I'm comfortable sending it out.

The point is that I have made peace with the rejection, understand that there are other fish int he sea, so to speak. I'm not angry, it's part of the game, and this is a game that I plan to keep playing for a long time. Writing is my craft and is going to be my full-time job. This story just wasn't meant to be the kick start I needed. And that's cool, too.

I dunno why I was rejected. I just wasn't what they were looking for this time.

But that's awesome, right? Because now I know that there are worse things than being rejected.

Singularity

So it might come as a shock to you, especially if you don't know me personally, that I have just undergone a breakup. I was with my now-former partner for 4 and a half years. That's a long time and a lot of experiences to throw away, in my opinion. But I think that it was for the best. In retrospect, having taken that step back, I can now say that the relationship had grown unhealthy and that if there was any hope of fixing the problems that preceded the break-up, it would only come from taking the necessary steps of backing up and looking at things from an outside perspective.

It sucks, going through a break up. There's no two ways about that. Sometimes, I wonder if it's harder for women than men, considering that I'm a girl and I swear to you, I felt like I was gonna die for a while there. Or at least shrivel up like a fish out of water from dehydration because of all the tears. (Okay, so that part is a lie, I don't actually cry. I save my tears for entertainment. I cried like a little bitch when Dale died in The Walking Dead, and the season opener of Doctor Who made me cry, too.)  I tend to let my emotions get the better of me and yes, I did consider apologizing and taking him back and trying again. But I let those emotions go, and tried very hard to look at things from a rational, logical point of view.

It's been 3 weeks as of this writing since we split and I admit that I still wake up sometimes wondering when he's gonna get home, or curled up with my arm around my pillow only to wake up and realize that yes, it is indeed a pillow that I've been spooning (and occasionally, drooling on.) I'm still a little bummed out over the whole thing, though the initial depression and doubts that I suffered have lessened significantly.

On the other hand, I have noticed a lot of things that have changed in my life since the break up. I've gotten a HELL of a lot more productive. I have filled my days with things that hadn't been happening in the last few months of the relationship. I'm writing every day again. Lots, actually. I've picked up crocheting and sewing again. I'm prepping for a new business venture and am creating amazing products for my current business venture. I'm editing my writing (and we all know how much I hate that!) I'm back writing scripts and am working on several specs that I fully intent to query out within the next few months. I have secret projects happening. I've lost weight, and inches, off of my body. I feel less stressed out about everything. I'm still not sleeping most nights, but hey, you win some, you lose some.

I have moved beyond the point of feeling like I need to fulfill the expectations of someone else. If I feel like staying up all night writing in bed, with the lights on, listening to my Devil's Carnival soundtrack on repeat without headphones (or doing the same things but instead of writing, crocheting because it's more mindless than trying to make proper words at 5 in the morning on no sleep) I can. If I feel like staying in my pajamas all day and eating nothing but microwave popcorn I can. Granted, I tended to stay in my pajamas all day if I wasn't doing anything anyway, but now I feel like there are no expectations. I don't have to have dinner at 5 p.m. every day. I don't have to go to bed at a normal hour. (Not like I do, can we get a hello for the incorrigible insomnia?) I don't have to share my video games or my computer and I certainly don't need to allot time to spend with the significant other. I have a Thor poster on my wall that I picked out myself, I have my favorite art pieces hanging on my bedroom walls. I don't have to ask opinions or permission to put something else up, or to take something down. I dyed my hair pink and purple. (Although, I used to do that anyway, but had to stop due to work not liking it.)

I feel like I have gained back of the old spark that I had lost as my relationship had deteriorated beyond the point of repair. This makes it sound like my ex was to blame for all the unhappiness in my life. That's not true. Situations arose where there was nothing either of us could do to make things happy, but that is neither here nor there. The relationship had just run its course. I'm just glad that we hadn't tied the knot when we were planning to because the break up wouldn't have just been as simple as it (kind of) was. I just feel like there is now a sense of self that has returned to me since breaking up with my partner. I feel like all the problems we had during our relationship had kind of put a stopper on my whimsy.

I know that a relationship, especially a long-term relationship, is about compromise. You have to share your life, and share your living space with this other person. You share your body, your soul, your home, your life... it's a lot of compromise. And that's the way it should be. I felt like there was no compromise, there were just changes that weren't always for the better.

Do I regret the relationship? No. Have I grown as a person for it? Yes, I think so. Do I know more clearly what I want in a partner now? Oh hell yes.

And that's a good thing.

I do admit, though, that I have a Queen size bed and I've grown accustomed to curling up against the wall, so there's more than half the bed just going to waste. I'm more than willing to let someone into my life to fill that other side of the bed. I'm just warning you though, I tend to hog the blankets, so for that, you're on your own.

Kai Kiriyama is a weirdo. She's still working towards publication of her novels and her scripts, but she is a current contributor to Zombie Training Magazine, which you can find at www.zombietraining.com.

Kai lives in the Frozen North with her pet snake, Rhaegar.

You can find her on Twitter at: @thekiriyamaheir
You can email her at: thekiriyamaheir@gmail.com
You can catch her on Facebook at: http://www.facebook.com/authorkaikiriyama
And she has a tumblr at: thekiriyamaheir.tumblr.com

Make Me Cry

It's funny, I have just spend the last 3 days marathon writing whilst sitting at my kitchen table in the most uncomfortable chair I have and what is the first thing that I do? I sit back the heck down and write a blog at the kitchen table in my godawfully uncomfortable chair. And then I'm gonna write something else. Why? Because it's all I know how to do.

Now that I have that out of the way, give me a moment, please, to express my elation one last time.

I completed Camp Nano session 1 last night. I crossed the 50,000 word finish line and I completed the novel that had been scratching away at my mind like a rodent for some time.

High fives and slurpees all around.

Yes, this is going to be another blog about the book that has been plaguing me for months. Deal with it.

I feel like I have had a great weight lifted from my body.

I have written 10 books to completion, one film script, three television scripts, several comic scripts and a multitude of short stories but never have I felt anything to rewarding as finishing this book.

This book has been an extension of my life since I came up with the idea just after November of last year. It has been slowly eating away at my brain for months and I finally sat down to write it.

I am very proud of this book. This book has been a difficult thing to write. I started out doing research for it by checking all sorts of gross medical stuff and learning about the doctor side of things. When I sat down to write, I realized that I didn't actually need all of that stuff, and the book really began to take on a life of it's own.

Finishing it now, I can tell you that it is the same story that I originally set out to tell, but it's not presented the same way that I had originally wanted. It sort of evolved as I sat down to write it, in a good way.

I've said it before, I am usually a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants kind of writer. USUALLY. I'm perfectly happy to sit and plan a story and write down all my plot points and blah blah blah. This time I did a little bit of both and I am really happy with the way it turned out.

This book was extremely difficult for me to write. It deals entirely with my main character contracting an illness and suffering in the hospital. I'm not going to tell you much more than that.

When I set out to write it, it was told from the first person point of view of my main protagonist as she was getting treated in the hospital. As I wrote, I suddenly developed this character into more than what I had originally set out to do. And her relationships with people. Her parents suddenly became thse fully fleshed out characters, as did her doctor. I didn't originally set out to write it that way, but it just felt to be the natural progression of the story.

The scary thing I found, is that I got amazing attached to my character "Zero". As I was writing the final chapters, I found myself crying more than once. I had to stop and remove myself completely from the story before I could go on.

I really hope that my passion and that level of commitment to "Zero" shows and I hope that I can illicit the same response from my readers.

It's been a really emotionally draining month.

And now that it's done?

I couldn't be happier with it.

So now it's off being critiqued and beta read by my friends and I want all the feedback I can get.

I'm taking this one all the way.

But for now, I need a nap.

Kai Kiriyama is going to spend the next three days sleeping.
If you need to reach her, email her at thekiriyamaheir@gmail.com or find her on Twitter @thekiriyamaheir

Thinking About Writing...

I'm currently in the middle of Camp NaNoWriMo session 1. If you're familiar with me, then you already know what NaNoWriMo is.

If you're not, let me sum it up: NaNoWriMo is National Novel Writing Month. The goal is to produce a 50,000 word novel in 30 days. In November. It's a free program, you can find the info at the NaNoWriMo website.  

Camp NaNo is the same thing, just in June. Session 2 begins in August. You oughta try it. Really.

Usually, I will write a 50,000 word novel is about 8 days. Assuming I have allotted myself the time to do it, and have built a bit of an outline, it can take less time. I write a lot. I write fast. My average is normally 1400 words in 15 minutes. That's 5200 words in an hour. Not that I can actually write that much in an hour. After a bit, the words start to taper off and it becomes a matter of making the plot work. (My record for a day is 20,000 words in 8 hours of writing interrupted by the Internet, chats online and food.)

But this time is different.

I have allotted myself the same time to write this month as I have in November. I've stopped most of my other hobbies. I don't have 3 separate jobs. I'm not getting ready for a convention. There's no reason why I shouldn't be done the novel already.

However, I'm sitting at 12,000 words when I should be at at least 25,000 to be on track to finish on time.

I sit down at my computer and am unable to write. I stare at the words and they don't want to flow from my fingers like magic, like they usually do.

It's frustrating.

I'm not usually a planner. Usually, I have a vague idea and then I sit to write it and the words begin to flow. Usually I'm what we NaNo'ers call a 'pantser', one who flies by the seat of one's pants. Last year During November, however, I planned my works. I ended up writing over 150,000 words.

And this brings me to my point.

I wrote my first novel in 8 days or so. I have since gone back to reread and edit it. I love my story. It's unique, it's spunky, it's amazing, it blends genres you wouldn't expect to blend... And I hate it. There is nothing really salvageable about it! The entire thing needs a rewrite. A major, massive rewrite. And I'm pissed off about it!! Why did I write so many words last year? Because I was competing with someone else who ended up writing 300,000 words.

I pity that person. If my perfectly planned, plotted and outlined works suck that hard, I can't imagine what HERS must be like.  I'm pissed because I basically wasted an entire month. The story needs a complete rewrite. Why did I bother then? I have to rewrite it anyway, I might as well have taken my time.

I'm not gonna lie either, I'm suffering a little bit of self-doubt. I had a very bad experience with a critique group earlier in the year. I was kicked out because I had familial duties to attend to and my loyalty was to helping my mom and my sister -- who was sick at the time and looking at surgery -- one night instead of attending the critique group. I offered to email or to meet with them another night but I got a email telling me that I was unwelcome if my priorities were not to the group.

In retrospect, it's a damn good thing I was kicked out because my writing style is not what they want in their group. In retrospect, the critique group is essentially trying to make all their novels sound the same. And that's not the point. The point is to improve your skills, not to sound like everyone else.

Coming away from that now, I'm VERY comfortable with my writing style. I love the way my words sound. I love the way my story flows. My NaNo novel that needs to be rewritten? Yeah, it's partly because I was using it in the critique group and their standards significantly changed the way my story flows.

But I'm a little off my point right now. (Thank you for indulging me in that rant.)

The point is about the speed writing that I'm usually really good at, the need for rewrites and the flow of words.

If you remember about four months ago (maybe six? I can't remember anymore.) I wrote a blog about how to deal with a story that was emotionally draining to write etc. Well, that's what I'm writing now. I've completely started over. Not that there was much to start over from. Just a few sentences and an idea.

Now I'm writing this book and the words are less flowing than I usually like. But I think that's okay.

This story is gonna be 50,000 words. I don't think that I can draw it out any longer than that. It's written from the first person perspective and drawing it out any longer is going to make it become repetitive and boring. If it wasn't my intent to submit it later, I'd make it shorter and plug it as a novella. It might end up as a novella, not gonna lie. And I'll start a second book to get to the 50,000 word mark for Camp NaNo.

The point of this all is that I went back to read my 12,000 words of this story.

I love them.

Like, love love LOVE these words. They are amazing, well thought out, well put together words. Editing is going to be a breeze when it's done. I've never felt this way about a book. Everything just fell together so well thus far. I'm amazed. And impressed with myself.

Is it because of my slow and steady attitude? I dunno. Is it because this book is so hard and so emotionally draining to write? Maybe. I think that subconsciously I know that the less time I have to spend picking at this wound of a book I've created, the better it'll be for my mental health in the long run. So the words are flowing slowly but beautifully and eloquently.

I just hope that my editors and beta readers feel the same way!

Screenwriting and the Pen

My first love was writing for film.

No, that's a lie. I used to write stories for comic books - usually involving Spider-Man - and stories in general for all sorts of things for school. (One year, I wrote strictly X-Files fan fictions [not knowing that 'fan fiction' existed back then] for every writing assignment I was given. I never got a mark lower than 98% on any of those assignments.)

But I really got hooked and decided to pursue writing as a career when I started writing for film.

I don't know how I did it as a kid. I was 11 when I decided I wanted to write professionally and 13 when I started writing for film. Maybe I had a better attention span back then? I can't say, but I wrote scripts ALL the time.

And I mean ALL the time.

I was consumed and obsessed with it. I started buying books, borrowing books, doing internet research and writing all the time.

I started with writing a Fantastic Four film script and a script for either Cable or Bishop, but I can't remember which now. I never did finish that Fantastic Four script because the movie was announced when I was about 45 pages in and I raged and deleted it. Which was a shame because I had the story translated into modern-day way better than the actual film did. (I'm so humble.)

So then I started writing my own work into a script.

I completed my first draft of my first script when I was 14 and was ready to be published at 16 and chased that dream for 3 years, going so far as to contact agents, critics, editors and certain celebrities. (Best day of my life, man, getting approval from one of my heroes.  But that's neither here nor there.)

But I didn't get published. Obviously, that never happened. Thank GOD. That script is terrible, and I'm pretty sure that the hard drive it was on crashed and was corrupted.

Not a big deal, really. It would've been a B-movie at best.

The point is that now I am getting back into the swing of writing for film and television.

And I forgot how hard it is!

I have so little attention span for the formatting. It drives me insane. And the program I am using to format (Celtx) is driving me even more insane. I dunno if there's a secret to making this program work better, but I'm going batty over it. Not to mention that during the Week from Hell, I lost 8 pages and 2 scenes that were emotional and had amazing dialogue that I will never get back in this 40 minute spec script I'm writing.

Oh yeah. I'm writing SPEC SCRIPTS. These aren't even my own work. I mean, okay, the stories are, but the characters aren't. It's like a more technical version of a fan fiction. (I feel like I'm 12 again and writing those X-Files stories.) Except I'm not.

And the formatting is irritating me. I'm not the director, why do I HAVE to put these stage directions in? I'm just a writer, the actors and directors should deal with that. HA!

Anyway, it's a long and tedious process and I'm none to impressed with the way I've been handling it. It's sad and I've been really quite lazy about it. Lazy and frustrated.

There is another point to this.

I used to write EVERYTHING longhand and edit as I typed it up. Then, when I had the first draft typed, it was really the second draft and was ready to be polished and edited a third time to make my 'final draft'. Yeah, it was a longer process in reality, but I felt that it was much more efficient than typing as I go.

Also, when I started this I was still living in my mom's house and sharing a single computer amongst my family. So writing in notebooks by hand made so much more sense to me. I got so much more accomplished. Plus, it made me feel cool in a totally pretentious and what would now be called 'hipster' kind of way.

I could get SO INTO my writing when I was sitting there writing by hand. I would take it with me everywhere and write whenever I could. At work, on my breaks, I was writing. I would have a granola bar and a fizzy juice drink of some sort and write for half an hour. It was amazing. I would be up all night writing in bed because I needed to get the ideas out.

Now I'm a grown-up and I have my own lap top, so I have been neglecting my hand writing.

Thinking about it makes me sad, really. I still have a billion notebooks, and some really awesome binders. And I buy thousands of pens (I buy some almost every time I'm in any place that sells pens... even the grocery store and stuff, it's an addiction!) So why don't I still hand write all my work? I dunno. But I seem to think that I might be more productive if I did.

Hmm...

Kai Kiriyama lives in the frozen North - otherwise known as Canada. She isn't kidding when she says she has a billion pens.
You can follow her eon twitter: @thekiriyamaheir
You can email her at: thekiriyamaheir@gmail.com
And you can find her on facebook here  

-EDIT-

I hate editing. A lot. It is the absolute bane of my existence. I'm a sincere perfectionist and I subconsciously hold myself to unattainably high standards. I expect to be able to so things as close to perfect as I can the first time around. Usually, this means that I get things right the first time. Or the second try. rarely do I allow myself a third try (or anything beyond that, for that matter.)

Editing, to me, is like a second try. Which is what it's supposed to be, in a way. But I hate it. A lot. It makes me feel that I am not perfect (which I don't claim to be but it's still not a nice feeling to be saddled with.) Reading over my work and forcing myself to edit it feels like I am looking back on a part of me that I wish didn't exist. If I could write a perfect novel in one go I would write a lot more, I swear. But I can't. So I have to sift through the things that are not perfect. I have to look back at the sentences and paragraphs (and sometimes even entire chapters) that just don't fit. I have to look at the things that don't make sense, the imperfections, things that seemed like a good idea at the time but really weren't. The list goes on.

I hate the fact that there is such a long curve to perfection when it comes to writing. I know that the first draft of anything (especially if we're looking at something that was written during National Novel Writing Month aka NaNoWriMo) is gonna be sucky. And I do a lot of my best and most prolific writing during November. There's something about the support, about the frantic urgency that is writing a novel in a month, about the sense of camaraderie that comes from knowing there are thousands of other people writing frantically in the month with you that makes the creativity flow better for me.

And I know these things. So why is editing such a terror for me?

I think that looking back on my imperfections makes me uncomfortable. As it should. I know that I will never be perfect, and I know that my work will never technically be perfect. But it should be as close to perfect as possible, shouldn't it?

Editing is a chore. It isn't easy, and it shouldn't be. I should be challenge, like anything else. And I suppose that I am not quite ready to face that challenge.

I'm gonna go try to edit my 2011 NaNo novel. I kind of want to see it in print one day...