I've dithered and dathered. I've picked and pecked. I've gone around and beside and over and under. But I haven't truly dived INSIDE THE BOOK. I can no longer avoid it. I must revise.
My fabulous friend and CP Stephanie has promised me that she'll reach her own writing goal this weekend. She is pumped. I must rise to the challenge. I will do at least fifty pages of serious revision. I will write at least one new scene. I will no longer dabble.
Sigh. I'm scared.
Which is a good sign actually. Most of the good things in my life have come about when I've been absolutely terrified of doing something. It's my internal signal that I have to break through a barrier. That I will be better for doing whatever it is that is making me nervous and, eventually, being relieved I did. Revisions aren't fun but I know from experience that I never regret doing them. So what's stopping me?
Worry about making things worse. Not being able to fix the problem.
So what's making me do it anyway?
Knowing the problem won't go away by itself. The possibility that I just might find the solution if I keep at it long enough. The possibility that I might just make what was once just a really cool idea tangible and complex and entertaining. That one day the book might be read.
And that, alone, is why I face the dreaded revision monster. I'll let you know if I slay the beast or have only given it a flesh wound.
Wish me luck.