There are times I read my writing, and the intimacy is so intense it gets this running through my head. More often, though ... even when I can remember quite distinctly how I created a scene, how I came to it, even maybe how I left it - I can't remember the scene as I *created* it, and am able to read as if I have never seen the words before.
I'm one of those insufferable "I am just a conduit" writers - at least, in the sense that I don't entirely give myself credit for being able to do what I sometimes find I have done.
Because I LOVE my writing. I'm not uncritical of it. I edit - and I seek others' critiques. When I have found my agent, when we've gotten me a publisher and an editor, I will not be at all precious about making my work *better* ... But I love my writing. I'm as excited by the stories and characters in reading them, created, as I am in coming to the prospect of telling them - creator. I want to know what happens - and even though I "made" my writing, I am always there in it, always there *for* it, as a reader, and endlessly ready to follow it. That is WHY I will be happy with an editor: I trust other guides; I like the way a trip goes with a companion.
Another rejection today.
I'm excited - I can't wait for the one who loves my writing too.
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