Writing is the most frustrating thing.
I’ve been writing this story for years now. I know it inside out. I’ve finally, with help from editors and writing friends, got a plot that hangs together.
None of that has made the actual writing any easier. The long process of putting one word after another and hoping it makes sense – I’d hoped that would fall into place now I know where I’m going. But writing is frustrating, and today, every word I’ve written has felt more boring and clunky than the last.
It’s so difficult to remember that this is normal. That every single writer goes through this. That I have to write the bad words so I can revise them into good ones.
Still, the words are down on the page now. That’s better than no words at all. Now they’re there, I can keep chipping away at them, shifting them around, and hopefully, eventually, they’ll work.
Writing is the most frustrating thing, but I have to remember that it’s worth it in the end.