I hate It. It does bad things to a writer. It allows, no compels, you to go back and reread what you wrote the day before--just to get you up to speed--then It slaps you with an unwanted crit. "By the way," It says, "you're a crappy writer." Oh no! I can fix it. Really. Just hold on a sec.
Let's be clear: It, the internal editor, is not your friend when you're deep into the First Crappy Draft. FCD for short. When It takes a swipe at my previous day's work, I can't help myself; I start deleting words, rewriting sentences, rearranging everything not nailed down, and well, today's work ends up being a rushed two paragraphs that on the scale of 1 to 10 rates a -2. Tomorrow, It will be beside herself with cruel glee. She's just trying to be helpful, ya know.
Get thee behind me, It!
I've got the cage. I've got the muzzle. I've got the tranquilizer. Unfortunately, some days, I forget to use them.
It, for all her annoying intrusions, has her usefulness. Later, when I'm done with the FCD, I can release the ruthless It to gnaw her way through the adjectives, adverbs, ragged plot and inconsistent characterizations. And I, the author, can take a break...for a few hours. It likes prompt revisions.
It and I have this real love/hate thing going. Today, we're in hate.
No comments:
Post a Comment