Many say it, but they are quick to play it down. Are we all afraid of seeming 1) hard to work with? 2) Lazy? or 3) Weak? Because addressing the fact that an activity is challenging (or even frustrating) might (according to the most critical part of our minds) negatively impact how we think others will perceive our commitment and drive.

Well, I’m here to admit how f-cking hard it is to go over a manuscript five, ten, maybe twenty (or more) times.

At some point, I can’t notice the mistakes, inconsistencies and glaring plot holes anymore.

More often than not, I lose the will to keep on working on my manuscript. I feel exasperated, incapable of trimming it off, of polishing it to perfection and thus delivering a flawless book. The more I edit, the more I question the quality of my work (“if it were any good, why do I have to keep on fixing it? Ah? Why!? It sucks! I suck!” *cries on the floor*)

I don’t even know what advice to take—and what to dismiss. I often wonder why I put myself in the precarious, vulnerable position of being judged (well, I know why: “because I would love to publish my work!” Questions to self: “why do I want to publish my work? To have others reading it? Is this an ego thing? Am I seeking validation? Who cares about this besides me? What does it matter if nobody does? What time is it on Mars? Oh, look, my mind is a dungeon now.”)

Telling a story isn’t easy. Telling a good, properly written story is even more complex.

Editing is an appointment with reality’s tax office: from grammar to punctuation to conceptual problems and plot black holes, the creativity of writing is replaced by technicality during the revisions. Editing elevates a manuscript, and in the process of doing so, it forces me to overcome my doubts, my fears, and my many flaws as a writer.

And yet, I keep on editing. Because my completed manuscript, my characters, and my story deserve better than my tantrums and despair. Because they deserve the best I can give them and do for them. Because they need me to improve my craft. Because they need me to get over myself.