Turns out, upon rereading it... It's not actually crappy. I'm excited by the story again. There's a little more romance in this one than I would have liked, but it's an incredibly satisfying sub-plot, really. And the main story and the main character are as kick-arse I wanted them to be, as I imagined them to be.
I wrote only a little new stuff yesterday, having spent ample time fixing the things that needed fixing in the story, but the words came easily. In fact, I was still aching to write long after I normally stop. I was writing down to the last possible minute of the day. It was wonderful!
I know I've said it before, but there really is no high quite like the writing high. There is no greater thrill than the rush of words pouring from your mind onto the page via your fingers. There is not greater joy than tapping furiously at the keyboard in a mad frenzy, turning ideas and visions into words on a page, fingers flying in an effort to keep pace with the images zipping by the mind's eye.
Though I only wrote roughly a thousand words yesterday, I came away feeling so incredibly satisfied.
Buried deep in the editing process, I completely forgot how wonderful writing felt.
Even though it's hard work. Even though it has me cursing and crying at times. It's still, to me at least, wonderful work. I'd gladly suffer the burden of the work to experience the feel of it.
I imagine anyone who loves what they do will understand. Carpentry is hard work, but to a carpenter who loves his craft, it is happy work.
That's what writing is for me.
You know, until I hit the next mid-manuscript slump and I fall beneath an avalanche of frustration and writer's tears.
Writing really is like riding an emotional roller coaster. Right now I'm on a high. Hopefully I can keep it that way. But first, Welsh!