There’s one thing that about being a writer that really
sucks sometimes.
That delightful little bitch of an internal editor? You
can’t make her shut up. She’s always in your head—even when you’re reading
OTHER PEOPLE’S WORK. Which, quite frankly, blows.
Books that you loved reading over and over again growing up
are now the same books you can barely get through because OMG THE HEAD
HOPPING!!!! [I’m looking at you, WAYFARER REDEMPTION] It doesn’t mean the book
is bad, or anything less than it was back when it made you stay up all night
reading, but suddenly there are things that offend your OCD on an
almost-personal level. Yes, I’m neurotic. I’m totally okay with this.
Will the mean you’ll never enjoy reading a book again?
Not in the least. What it means is that when you find those
precious unicorn books that suck you in and keep you there until the last page,
you’ll appreciate it for the gem it is. You hold it close and re-read it and
cuddle it because it’s the greatest thing in the world.
And, if you’re like me, you’ll be on twitter fangirling all
over the place and embarrassing yourself.
Or you could...you know, just kill your internal editor with fire. She totally deserves it. Just saying.
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