Longtime readers of this blog may recall that since 2008 I've been working on writing a book. I've tried participating in NaNoWriMo, but ... well ... I'm not exactly disciplined enough for that particular exercise.
They say you should write what you love, and frankly, I love paranormal romances. So that's what I'm working on. And working on. And working on. FOR YEARS.
I know the story I want to tell. At one point I had nearly 75,000 words written. But then I find some stroke of inspiration and the story takes a different turn ... and so I edit. Characters change. I'll realize that I introduced characters that have never shown up again. Storylines end, abruptly. Key plot points don't seem so key anymore. And I delete. Since December 2009 I've re-written this damn thing at least three times. And then I get frustrated and stop writing because clearly I can't write what I want to write.
And then I find inspiration again and I open the document. And I begin editing again. It's a sickness. I can't help it. I think I might be a better editor than writer. I think maybe I missed my calling.
I've decided that this is my last round of edits. I'm going through each chapter, tightening language, clarifying ideas, fixing plot holes. As I save each chapter I'm going to print it out. And be done. I don't know if anything will come of this. I haven't actually thought that far. Maybe I'll self-publish it on Amazon and "sell" four copies.