Who likes editing? I know you’re out there. But there’s a reason it cost money to have someone edit your writing. It’s painstaking, grueling and mind-numbing work. It’s the spot where I like to debate the merits of my work, whether its worth the effort or time to move on.
Writing for me is enjoyable, it gives me all the right feels. I’m making something, it’s not exactly tangible, but it is something. I pour out the words describing the vision inside my cranial cavity and minutes, hours, months, years later its a story. Jubilations, exhiliration, and good golly. That’s my something there, from my cluttered mind to the blinking cursor at THE END.
Editing is not that. It’s the crucial part of the process, where determination and critical eyes cut at the body of that story like a butcher at the block. You can’t have filet mignon without the excess sliced away. Or for my vegan friends, you can have the tofu without the shucking the shells.
Editing is all about taking the raw materials and making a refined product. It’s catching commas, switching hominyms, placing missing words, cutting extra words, active voicing passives, killing filler, fixing plot holes, and I could go on, but I like to keep most posts short.
It’s not the fun part, editing. It’s the part that elevates thought. It’s required and while its tedious at times, disheartening at others, when done right wholly satisfying. Editing, where’s the fun in that? The fun is in the reading afterward.