I just have to remind myself that this whole writing a novel thing is my idea, that no one is clamoring for it, and that I just need to do it to my satisfaction. There is no shortage of novels in the world, and I have no economic reason to push it.
So even though I probably will release this to the world with more of a whimper than a bang, I'm glad I did it. I'm happy that I'm writing again.
Yes, I had to be reminded that it takes a whole lot of work. I had to be reminded that it's all on my head, and I can't expect people to like my unfinished work (or my finished work, for that matter.)
My excuse for forgetting what I already knew is that it's been 25 years since I was doing it last.
Anyway, as soon as I get the critiques back -- however little it is --- I'll start doing another draft and see where that leads me.
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I think I had hoped that my new working process would help keep it from getting so messy.
But I think it's going to end up being just as difficult as it ever was. All that's happened is that I'm maintaining my freshness toward the material a little longer.
Which is no small thing. By the time I finished Deviltree, for instance, I simply couldn't see it anymore. Or feel it. But I knew that I had worked out the mechanical faults and improved the story.
I guess my goal would be to work out the mechanical faults and still maintain some freshness.
This is MY feeling toward the book, which is not the same thing as how it affects the reader.
In fact, I think there may be an inverse proportion to the whole process -- the more I work on it and lose my sense of fun, the better for the reader.
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