Flawed and Fabulous

I stumbled upon this blog I created about two years ago. It had one post in it where I spoke about finishing the manuscript and how that felt. I shall reproduce the post here. In the interim the manuscript went through many changes and rewrites and was finally published in January 2016. I am yet to write about the feeling of being a published author. Soon. Soon.

FLAWED AND FABULOUS

I recently finished my manuscript. It is about a lakh words long. It took me about six months to write it and over 16 months of pretending to write it.

I woke up this morning feeling anxious and exhausted. I feel my book isn’t good enough. That it isn’t going to be enough. That I have failed. Let my characters down, betrayed my story and killed all my darlings in an entirely different manner than what Stephen King meant.

I also know this is normal. At least I hope it is. I am supposed to think my book sucks. I am also supposed to think it is amazing.

If you really mean to be a writer, really mean it in a way that you are prepared for it to take over your life, your brain, your soul then know this – these feelings are like co-existing parasites in one host.

It is a schizophrenic existence and you have to make your peace with it. I am trying to.

Ask me what I think of my own book and I will say this – It is flawed. It is fabulous. It is also a beast carved of my own soul. I own it. And this beast owns me.

I have never been happier to be a writer than right now.