One of the best things I’ve learned during the short time I’ve been writing is the value of silencing that built-in critic, to write the first draft unencumbered, unshackled by the inner voice which tells you what you’ve written is wrong, bad, laden with mistakes.
Of course there are mistakes. You wouldn’t be human if you didn’t make mistakes. BUT. They are correctable, fixable, root-out-able. No problem.
The real problem in writing, for me, is to allow the spectre of the mistakes flowing from my fingers, through the keys and onto my screen, to stop me, to allow it to slow the torrent of that first draft, to keep it from pouring out.
Because, I WILL edit. Forever and incessantly, I will edit. I just have to get my story fully told first, then I can allow myself to meddle, to whittle, to strike out and to add.
As a matter of fact, if my novel is accepted for publication and sees the light of day in print, I will probably be at the bookstore, chasing down the people who buy it, pen in hand, saying, “Please, please, just let me fix that one word. You’ll be glad I did…..”
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