Not even close.
Just a month after shelving the first draft of Skyland, I’m back at it. Couldn’t keep away. But it’s okay. Since I started writing the damn thing all the way back in November–and chapter 1 in December the previous year–I think enough time has passed for me to read the first half of the manuscript with fresh eyes. And by the time I’m done with that, enough time will have passed so I can get a fresh look at the second half.
So it’s all good.
But edits are no fun.
Well, not that they’re never any fun. Sometimes I read over something I wrote back when the first draft was shiny and new and I think, Yes, this is exactly what I was going for, this is exactly why I am writing. These moments keep me going. And the more I write, the more good moments I have (and less of those oh-god-what-was-I-thinking?? moments.) But even when they are good, edits lack the lustre of first draft writing, the magic of making something. Even if what you’re making is terrible, even no one will ever read it, there is something wonderfully pleasing about creating something that didn’t exist before. I like that.
Edits, not so much.
So I’m plodding along. One page at a time. Then the next. Then the next. Then the next.
And when I get through this, there’ll be another shiny and new project waiting for me on the other side.