I'm thinking that maybe I shouldn't set myself deadlines when it comes to editing my book, because every time I think I'm near the end, everything before that starts to seem dull again. There is literally no limit to how much you can try to perfect something, because perfect doesn't exist. That's something hard to swallow as a writer, because that's pretty much all we strive for. Perfection.
It takes time to master the skill of knowing when to stop sculpting. Editing is like chipping away at something until it looks like that thing you fell in love with in your head. It's hard as hell, but I love it. And the more time I spend going at it, the more I realise how important it is to strive for satisfaction with your book - not perfection. I'm going to stop babbling on now.
I've got some editing to do!
TO THE MANUSCRIPT!