Learning to Listen to that Still, Small Voice
I'm a bit of a people-pleaser, I'd readily admit: I can't quite put a finger on the root of this, and I probably should limit my psychoanalyzing to the process of developing my characters, but as I said, I try and please as many folks as I can. This includes the Internal Editor, that little voice that gets overly critical during the writing process and if not held in check, can derail a story and leave you in a bout of writer's block.
But once in a while, the Internal Editor gets it right. Once in a while, you do need to heed its voice, and I just emerged from a situation of that very type.
I'd started working on a story some months back and kept poking and prodding at it, trying to get it into a submitable shape for one anthology in particular. And yet, try as I might, I couldn't get it to a shape that I liked. Cue the Internal Editor telling me to set it aside and save it for another anthology, if a similar call ever arose (hey, at least the Internal Editor wasn't telling me I'd just wasted two months of writing on a steaming heap of rotten garbage, so small mercies, it seemed). I kept ignoring the Internal Editor and trying to use every available moment of my Writing Time to get the thing to cooperate. No luck, proverbial flagellation of the defunct equine. Finally, my day job plus a weird chest-cough 24 hour bug-thing, plus news of a personal tragedy knocked whatever wind I had out of my writing streak and I had to shelve the story since the window for submissions had now closed. Which meant I started beating on myself for not getting the work done on time. Somehow, perhaps due to simply running out of the spoons to deal with all of this, I suddenly realized just why the work in progress hadn't, well, worked. I'd missed raising a convincing tent pole for the second act, and shelving the idea might not be such a bad thing after all. Returning to it some day to look it over with fresh eyes might reveal what I need to do to fix it, or I might finally have a brain storm and come up with something to fill that void. Also, I learned that if the Internal Editor is acting kindly and concerned, I really need to listen to it.
But once in a while, the Internal Editor gets it right. Once in a while, you do need to heed its voice, and I just emerged from a situation of that very type.
I'd started working on a story some months back and kept poking and prodding at it, trying to get it into a submitable shape for one anthology in particular. And yet, try as I might, I couldn't get it to a shape that I liked. Cue the Internal Editor telling me to set it aside and save it for another anthology, if a similar call ever arose (hey, at least the Internal Editor wasn't telling me I'd just wasted two months of writing on a steaming heap of rotten garbage, so small mercies, it seemed). I kept ignoring the Internal Editor and trying to use every available moment of my Writing Time to get the thing to cooperate. No luck, proverbial flagellation of the defunct equine. Finally, my day job plus a weird chest-cough 24 hour bug-thing, plus news of a personal tragedy knocked whatever wind I had out of my writing streak and I had to shelve the story since the window for submissions had now closed. Which meant I started beating on myself for not getting the work done on time. Somehow, perhaps due to simply running out of the spoons to deal with all of this, I suddenly realized just why the work in progress hadn't, well, worked. I'd missed raising a convincing tent pole for the second act, and shelving the idea might not be such a bad thing after all. Returning to it some day to look it over with fresh eyes might reveal what I need to do to fix it, or I might finally have a brain storm and come up with something to fill that void. Also, I learned that if the Internal Editor is acting kindly and concerned, I really need to listen to it.
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