Maybe it’s because the stakes are different now.
I went into this third draft knowing that this will be become something by the end of the year.
I started the second one with the idea that maybe it would be something but it was still just mine and I was still just plodding along with it. But come the third draft I knew. In the midst of it I made some moves. I declared that it would be something.
And then it changed the vibe of this draft.
Every word I typed back up made my skin want to crawl. The imposter syndrome would not be quiet. I hated looking at the folders that hold my second draft. I started to wonder if I even liked these characters anymore or if anyone but me would even give a shit about this silly little story that I’ve written.
The mountain, that I have already climbed twice, felt even higher this time.
I found myself pulled in other directions a bit more. I wanted to write a new story. I wanted to do something that would mean I could put off working on the thing that’s supposed to be something. A new pot got added to the stove. More ingredients were added to the other pots bubbling away. Everything I could do that would mean that I could put off looking at this Christmas story, I wanted to do.
It all felt like too much.
The first 20,000 words made me want to claw my eyes out. I hated it. Nothing about it had really changed, except that it meant more now. Then the middle hit, and while in the first draft I hated it more than anything, in the third one I felt like I had managed to fall in love with it again.
But then the third act came trotting along and the imposter syndrome was back in full force and I felt like it needed more. Everything needs to be more. I need to add back the words I’ve cut. I need to do more, more, more.
Anyway, it’s done now. It is no longer my problem. It will go off to an editor and I will pretend not to think about it. I will instead think about blurbs and mood boards and filling out the playlist a bit more. I will think about character art and the fact that I’m due to get my edit letter on Thing 2 back so I need to go back to that world which will be more fitting because it’s set during the summer and not two weeks in December.
And the imposter syndrome will stay. It might always stay.
Well Sophie you should be so proud. I'm still mulling over a self-indulgent, cringeworthy first draft of something and it's nowhere near an editor yet! Go you, I can't wait to see what you do