I’m beginning to think that past me, who claimed to like revision, deserves to be punished…severely. Present me certainly disagrees. If I had any doubt left that being a professional author is what I want, I’d quit two weeks ago. Or maybe twenty years.
Then again it could just be that at the moment revising “The Enemy Within” is mostly just rewriting and I’m so not a planner. Writing with an outline, while still enjoyable, doesn’t give me that “buzz” pantsing does. I like not knowing where I’ll end up, or villains who decide to switch sides on me. You know, the whole element of surprise thing? I get none of that now, but I’m soldiering on. I didn’t spend all these years on writing only to throw in the blanket at the first sign of hardship. It matters too much to me for that.
Or it could be the fact that this story was trouble since I first wrote it. It’s just as stubborn as me. One of us will cave and it won’t be me. Worst comes to worst, I’ll trunk this and revise something else. I’m nearing the end though… . Of this draft.
Only thing I know for sure is that my next step will be a pure writing project. I’ll ignore the backlog, just waiting to be revised, to write something new. After that I’ll alternate. No more back to back revisions.