The problem is that when I write I love what I’m writing, its fresh, its new, its undoubtedly an outstanding work of staggering genius. If the novel in progress was a person we would be at that stage in our relationship where I’m name-checking it every three minutes, whether the conversation is relevant or not, ‘Novel likes ice lollies too!’.
But editing requires a completely different mindset. When your editing you have to ‘kill your darlings’. And when your rewriting as well as editing (combining love of the project with a critical eye) well its a hard slog. Unlike when your writing a first draft and you can rely on the word count to keep you motivated, this is not much help when editing. Because you could have had a really productive morning and -1,4500 words. So instead I’m trying to rewrite for a solid hour. We’ll see how it goes.
Anyway after wrestling with a mid point scene in which three characters intersect for the first time for most of the morning, I’m done. The sun is shining. Its a Saturday and The Boy is making neglected noises. We’re off to the museum. The doubt weasels will wait til tomorrow.