Nighttime blabbering 819

Holy Molly, I seriously neglected the rule “Less is more,” and I am paying for it. I have a manuscript of 100 pages stacked with 60K words, and I am deleting so much. Every paragraph I have is cut in half, and when I look at the word count, it drops significantly. I am at 54 000 words and 50 pages to go. The story seems simplified and easier to follow and read. A dynamic flow I wanted to reach is so much more fluent now. And I’ve figured out a few things on my own.

Whenever I edit my work, I get the sense of a third person’s view, as if my conscience is levitating above me, watching me sit at my computer and read the text. The manuscript, it’s not mine; it belongs to my enemy, and damn it, I am going to delete so much because I am evil, and I can. But there’s a catch. My enemy always wins because he gets an improved text, the edited story, which radiates with logic and fun. I can only gnash and furl my tongue at his success. But eventually, the story is mine, and I am an enemy of myself in this game. And the game is also fun. It nods at the moment of introspection, checks my ego, motivates me to improve, and still my nerves when facing a problem. It provides insight into the gravity of what I have to tackle, allows me to chip at small parts, and slowly reduces the conundrum to my level. You can call the work on the novel similar to working on yourself. I must warn you about the sour passages, which can hurt, but the pain in this sense has a meaning. Yes, the pain is only a fantasy and internal bleeding of the soul, yet the healed spots prove resilient to attacks.

I desire to make this work, learn about writing, learn about myself and improve so much that I become independent. When I nail down what goes and what’s wrong with the story, my novel will stand on its own feet. And I’ll lose the need for professional help, editors, and beta readers. I can be free in the open field of creativity, making my own path, exploring the possibilities, and possibly tread on the thin edge that separates an average writer from the everlasting names of literature. And then I am aware I am scribbling fantasy and science fiction with their subgenres which don’t always bring glory. But I am at peace because chasing glory doesn’t resonate with my aspirations. It is a foolish dream of beginners that pulls a writer into this gig, but the grateful reader makes him stay. My task is to tell a good story, and what happens after needs a little of my concern. So, I am working on the novel, kicking out redundancies, and making my novel into a solid standing piece… paragraph after paragraph.


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