OK, I have to admit I’m a little disappointed. When I polished off the rough draft of The Novel last year, I was all gung ho for the editing process.
“I can’t wait to check out all the cool stuff I’ve written,” said a slightly younger, much stupider Adam Armour. “It’s going to be rad.”
Well, that time has come. Guess what? It ain’t “rad.”
Editing this damn thing is like slogging through the thick black mud of the Swamps of Sadness. It sucks…and now Artax is dead. Every single page requires at least twenty minutes of reading, rewriting, rereading again, and then rewriting again. It’s impossible to simply look at what I’ve written and see it as a complete whole. Instead, everything just feels like a vast collection of mistakes — a myriad of iffy characters, questionable plot contrivances and immense stupidity. I mean, there are times when I’m proud of something or think a particular section turned out nicely; but mostly I feel like I’m repaving a recently-completed road.
I really, really hate it.
On the plus side, I’m working on a new short story tentatively titled, “Sibling Rivalry.” Hopefully, it will capture that kind of creepy/funny/sort of poignant atmosphere that I love so well. So far, I’m pretty excited about the way it’s turned out. Ask me about it a week after it’s finished and I’ll likely say something completely different…probably with more profanity as well.