“But if It Had to Perish Twice…”

E is for editing.

I don’t know how to edit.

I should be editing right now instead of writing this.

The idea of editing the book I’m writing right now is making me physically nauseated, but I have to finish it soon.

I don’t like doing things I don’t know how to do. Okay, that’s not true. I love figuring things out; the best way for me to learn is hands-on. I love deconstructing just to see how something works and building it back up again, or being given a task or having an idea and watching it come together under my fingertips. But I don’t like being expected to know something I was never taught, being thrown into a mess and told that if I’m not out by the time the timer is up, I’m going to lose. I don’t like that. I don’t want to edit this book. I don’t know how.

I’ve hated working on it for so long that you think I’d be used to it by now. But hate isn’t something that hits you once and lets you get used to its sticky, oozing, smoldering darkness. Hate pours itself like tar into the cracks in your heart and nervous system and expands, until its object becomes so repugnant to you that you would rather do literally anything else than face it and deal with it. Anything.

Robert Frost (and I’m sure many others) claimed that hatred is ice. I don’t believe him. Hatred is hot. Hatred is the igneous rock of the soul. Hatred is turning the shower hotter than you can take it and relishing in the heat so intense it feels cold.

Hate is a nuisance. Like jealousy, it holds no useful traits for my survival as a functioning human being. I want it eradicated from my mind, if that is indeed where it resides. (I’ve never quite been able to distinguish the exact differences between feelings and thoughts and the respective places they reside. Some past society or another believed that emotions resided in the bowels–a theory I’m inclined to believe, for connotational reasons.)

So this is me choosing not to embrace hate. This is me choosing to eliminate hate. And, when that inevitably fails time and time again, this is me sucking it up and editing my novel and dealing with stupid people with a smile.

crazy stupid love I will kill you laughter.gif

I am both of them.

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One comment

  1. I know you can do it. I know I’ve told you this before. I need to edit too. So we’re both in the stage of need to edit but don’t want to. But this past semester–despite everything I hated or liked–I learned I /can/ edit. I edited five chapters. I figured out a structure to my story. I figured our more back story and world details. I figured out the direction i want this to go in. So instead of editing these five chapters again (for like the 3rd or 4th time), I’m going to keep going. I’m going to edit the next five & the next five & the next until it’s edited/re-written. (bc sometimes editing is re-writing, if that helps.) then, I can go back to the first 5 & see what needs to be done. I don’t now how far I will get. I don’t know if I’ll give up. But I’m going to try. Today, tomorrow, next week.

    So if I can take my messsy story–of 200+ typed pages written in no specific order & not split into chapters & in need of a major re-work bc I decided to move “scenes” into different order–& I can try to do something with it, I think you can do something with your work too. 🙂

    I’m here for you if you need help.

    A+ gif use.

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