This morning, I began typing up THE MONSTER SQUAD. It's 872 words so far, and I'm very proud of myself. Even though it's already driving me insane in how much work it needs.
I've known the whole thing was rough, but by paying closer attention to where I need to Show More, Tell Less, I'm starting to panic. (I suffer from anxiety; panic is far easier than breathing). Not to mention how much weaker it gets, and how much more emotion is needed...
But this longhand hot mess is only about 50,000 words. That's half a full-length novel. I have room to grow.
It'll be okay.
I knew it was hard work from the beginning, but no matter how many times I do this, it's just as daunting as the first time. It's a whole world at my fingertips, swirling around in my mind, in which two others already live. Holy. Shit.
But I can do it. I know I can. I'm a writer; it's all I've ever NEEDED to be, and I'm too crazy to succeed at much else.
However easier it would be to succumb to life, to wither and die, to be crushed by the angst and the pain, I can't. My characters deserve better.
They deserve to share their stories with the world.