I go through these phases of being really inspired and then falling flat on my face in an ocean of discouragement. I’m kind of in limbo right now.
I’ve written 55 pages of Elemental so far, and I’ve only been working on it for about two-three weeks, so that’s not so bad, is it? Some days it seems good, some days not.
The more I write, and the more I read what other writers say about writing, the more I come to believe that there is No Set Formula. There is no “perfect way” to write, or to revise, or to get published. There are always improvements to be made–this is true. However, how you get to making these improvements varies like mad, person to person.
Writing is very often a solitary sport. A lot of writers do their own thing as they go, briefly pass each other during mating season, then return to their own respective territories.
Oh, wait. That’s tigers.
Hm. I maintain my metaphor.
Anyway. No one can tell you how to write. Or how to rewrite, or what the best way to do something is. You have to find a style that works for you, in order to make your work the best thing it can possibly be. If you run into a wall, try something else. Tunnel through it, or if all else fails, blast the damn thing to the ground and start over.
Writers come in all different packages. Some have English degrees, some have no degrees, some can write a brilliant short story but can’t tell you which way the sun rises in the morning. They can be amazing or terrible or somewhere in between. And each little unique snowflake of a writer has to find his or her place in the world.
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