Current location:	home
Current mood:	contemplative
Entry tags:	creativity, publishing, writing

The Brightest Heaven

...edits are done. That's one step closer to actual publication.

I need to remind myself of what's going on, sometimes. Working on a book is exciting, but it's also exhausting, tedious, and all the other aspects of an actual job. This is where discipline, or willpower, or obstinacy (pick your choice of attitude) is needed.

In my case, it's sheer stubbornness. I am not going to give in just because writing went from fun to work. The excitement is there, the pride of having your story selected to be published. But reality sets in and scribbling on a notepad is not enough anymore. Suddenly, all the little writing mistakes you thought insignificant acquire a whole new dimension. Suddenly, you're working on the definitive version (well, at least for this edition). This is it. What you're writing is going to hit the world. Anyone can look at it. Anyone can read it. Everyone can criticize it. And you can't hide behind false modesty or shyness anymore.

Writers rarely have to stand on a stage and perform. We can hide behind imaginary world. We can create a persona to fit a pen name and hide behind it, like an actor hiding behind a character -- it's not me saying these things, and those emotions are not mine; they belong to the character.

But in the end, your writing is what speaks, and you can't hide what's in your written word. Because you must pour everything you can into your story, and there's no taking it back.

I can understand why great writers and poets would never try to get published. Not everyone is an exhibitionist.

But I can't help wanting to share my stories. I can't help wanting to show off the people that crowd my dreams.

I can't help thinking mine are better, bigger, stronger, more vivid than yours. Whoever you may be.

Yeah. Writer's ego. Not a small thing.