The Evil Story-Changing Imp

Ever do that thing where you write like 500 – 1000 words of a story in a rush one night, glance back over it as soon as you’re done and you’re all just like

spewin moddafunkin rainbows

Yeeeah, I just did that. Feels great. Not compainin’. But I’m a big enough boy now to know that this trippy ‘I’m a Godly author’ moment will have a comedown. Like seemingly everything else on this earth, when you see your writing the next day it just, well…

Well…

It’s like some daemonic little evil story-changing imp got into your word processor overnight and just downright messed with your stuff. It’s like a sixteen-year-old with angst issues hacked your files in a bid to make your story better reflect their immature attitude. It’s like, well, I’ll stop before the metaphors get any worse. You get the picture.

Luckily I know that’s exactly what’s going to happen, so guess what I’m going to do? That’s right kiddo, I’m NOT going to read what I’ve just written tomorrow. I’m just gonna carry straight on writing, and writing. Not writing for a third time though, because this is technically the 2nd draft so I’ll have to face up to those edits sometime soon and stop grafting on new scenes (the story needs them, okay? *angstfit*

The point is, I’m going to squeeze that writing high for every ounce of positivity and forward momentum I can get out of it. You should too. With your own writing though, my s**t’s too pure for you to handle.