Writing Pain

Revision is hard for most of us. It's akin to painstakingly building a sandcastle only to see it washed away with the next tide. We have a hard time letting go of our words. That's because our words come from within, and every word we let go is like letting a part of ourselves go. It's human nature to become attached to what we've created. But as writers, its the worst thing we can do. We have to let go to get to that next level of skill. Revision means re-visioning our work, seeing it with different eyes. And that often leads to tearing into our words like ravenous wolves. But we must be willing to do this. We have to be willing to throw it all out if that's what it takes. At the very least, we have to be willing to reassemble our sentences and paragraphs and chapters into passages that work, even if it means cutting out most of our original version. And then we need to rework it again until we have exhausted ourselves with the effort and it's as good as we're capable of making it. To do any less is to do half-hearted revision. Just merely rearranging our words, hoping they'll sound a little better the second time around is not truly revision. Revision cuts. It bleeds. It even hurts. But what you end up with when you're done is a piece of writing that is as honest and resonant and perfect as you are capable of, and that's what makes the writing process worth the pain.