Finally, I'm on Chapter 25 in my revision process. It's getting close, considering my novel only has 35 chapters. At first, I was thinking of adding a few more chapters here and there, but on second thought, I gave up that ambition --I'm already at 79,500 words and I am not planning to go over 80,000. As I get closer to the end, I am excited--scratch that, I'm actually estatic!--to be reaching my dream.
The revision process is an interesting process, really. It helps me look deeper inside as a writer and find that passion, mold it and remold it, and use it over and over again to create better sentences, better words, and a richer, more meaningful story. Rewriting is rediscovering.
I have become my worst critic. Sometimes I hate my own words, and sometimes I think I am good. It's a Dr. Jekyl and Mr. Hyde syndrome, which can be freakin' crazy if you ask me. But amid those sleepless nights when the struggle for words and sentences seem to dominate my entire existence, I find hope in one thing: Money. Yes, that's right! I write so that I may feed my babies. I follow the footsteps of Charles Dickens, really. Money is ultimately my motivation.
I remember reading a quote from a famous writer. She said--and I paraphrase--if she had her choice, she would rather win a lottery and catch up with her reading instead of writing. And I thought that was very practical.
I don't believe writers who keep saying they write for themselves. Well, that's good and dandy as long as they have no desire to publish. If they do, they need to face the fact that they are, indeed, writing for others. I write for the money, have always been, and I am proud of it!
