Greetings All - Today is Insecure Writers' Day - the first Wednesday of every month - and it is a trial for me this time. Why? You all ask in loud voices. Because I said so. No, that's wrong. Because I finished a HUGE ASS edit yesterday and I'm not feeling all that insecure. Oh, I'm sure something will rise up and slap me down any minute now - but RIGHT NOW I feel good. Nonetheless, I'll keep writing and find my insecurity to parade before y'all.
Revising is fraught with insecurity. If you are like me, and for the sake of my ease I'm going to pretend you are all identical, then you write your first draft as if no one was ever going to read it - including yourself. It is a glorious woolly mess of a thing - with dangling story lines, characters that are tall and manly in one chapter and short and nervous in the next, and lots of shiny metaphors that have nothing to do with anything. So - revising can be a painful exercise of saying to oneself, over and over again, 'what was I thinking?' and 'I must be a complete moron' and 'who wrote this shite?' and so on...
Hopefully within that process, the woolly mess becomes a decent fitted garment with sleeves that match and a real collar - not just a cheap-way out boat neck. No! That's knitting. Sorry. Hopefully your woolly mess will become a coherent story with tension and structure, excellent dialogue and an ending! That would be great.
I think I got there yesterday. Oh, I have lots to still fret over. Just because I pared it down and got rid of all the tangential story lines doesn't mean it is riveting prose just yet. But I feel like I'm getting close. Just a few more weeks and maybe it will be ready to face the world.
Here's where I can find my insecurity - dough-land, moolah, the buck stops here, the bottom line, living in the red - you get the picture. Why I start sounding like Sam Spade when I talk economics I don't know - but there ya go. I get insecure because I spend a lot of time that I could be hustling up clients and charging them for my services - writing. And so far that writing has brought me in exactly nothing in the form of currency. Hold on! Not true! In university (not so long ago in my case as I'm living my life backwards) I won two poetry prizes and made about $300 overall. Not bad. And in my other writing - for govt. and so forth - I sometimes make ridiculous amounts of money. But no - doesn't count as we are going down the tubes NOW and I'm definitely fiddling while Rome burns.
There! You happy now! I found my insecure spot. Now I'm going to work. At my real work. Where I do something that people give me money for. Bye now.
I'm going to hop over to Alex's and see how the rest of the Insecure Writers are doing. Why don't you hop over there with me? Or not. Maybe you don't want to hang out with me cuz I'm a loser but I was just asking. Never mind. See you around. Maybe. Or not. Whatever.