I admitted to the leader of a prose-writing workshop my worst fear was being misunderstood. He misunderstood what I meant.
It's a new month, which means it's time for a new set of shocking, scandalous writer confessions. Not for the faint of heart, I assure you.
Digging through the fresh rubble that is my July draft, I find I have a lot of soul-searching to do. Most writers who edit their own work seem to. In the wake of the Nano writing bender, I offer you the frank confessions of a haggard writer-in-editing.
Creativity is not glamorous. Usually, it's a bit more like trying to shake a wet piece of paper out the bottom of the wastebin. Here are more confessions from and for the put-upon writer. (To all this month's Camp Nano participants, keep it up!)
Sometimes, the world just doesn't understand writers. Most of the time, writers don't understand writers. Or taxes, usually. But if you write, you might have to come to terms with some bizarre and unfortunate truths.
Talking writer problems to a non-writer is a bit like chatting up a flat-earther: you assume you're on the same page until you aren't. Every writer writes differently, of course. But on the off-chance you relate, here are the deep, gritty confessions (and precautions) of a habitual fiction-writer.