What it Feels Like Having an Internal Editor

I have a name to my pain. If only it were as cool as Batman. No, I am talking about The Internal Editor.

I have this extremely bad habit, as it relates to writing (yes, I gather bad habits like hoarders gather everything so let’s focus on this one now okay); I keep internally editing whatever the hell I’m writing.

That’s what takes so long. It’s hard for me to commit to a project when every fiber of my being (and weighing in at 100kg, there are a lot of them) screams at me that my story is shit, ssshhhhiiiiiiiiitttttttttttttttttttttttttttttt, and I should just go back to work on these balance sheets.

Let me try and show you guys what it’s like, writing with Internal Editor mode on.

“She pressed hard onto him, grabbing the collar of his shirt, tears streaming down her face, throat raw, gasping and panting, and after a few minutes of staring into his hazel eyes, pressed her lips onto his.”

I just pulled that sentences from the rectal area of my anatomy.

So as I was writing that, a few thoughts popped into my head. I didn’t recognise it before, but that is the voice of The Internal Editor, that villain who stops me from finishing stuff. I shall now demonstrate the thoughts that lead me from a cool idea for a story to abandoning it in tears and curling up in the fetal position in the shower while my wife rages at the locked door because she needs to use the commode.

  • How do you press hard onto someone while grabbing the collar of his shirt at the same time? Is this woman a contortionist? Better check to see if it can be described better.
  • Wait was he even wearing a shirt before? Did it have a collar on? Fuuucccccckkkk continunity error
  • “Tears streaming down her face.” Wow. Such Unique. Much Creative. Very not cliche at all. Wow.
  • What colour is hazel anyway. Maybe should’ve just said brown.
  • Wait wait wait what is this woman’s breast size again? Maybe describe how her boobs are pressing up against him because boobs.
  • Shit I wanted this guy to be stoic not a fucking wood puppet and what the hell purpose does this scene have in the context of the story anyway

You probably see now why I need to hunt Mr. Internal Editor and beat him senseless until he learns to shut the fuck up for a few minutes.

Aimed at you, Internal Editor.

If that sentence was the beginning of a story it would have been nigh impossible to finish the whole story with his incessant yapping. Otherwise the process of writing is fun, wholesome and recommendable to everybody, much like exercise, yoga, or masturbating.

Fuck, I’m doing it now. Jeez.

Anyway, I spend a lot of time thinking about my stories so inevitably I come to the question, why is it so hard to finish? Other people do it, it shouldn't be so damned hard, but I’m having a hard time finishing. Mostly I feel it’s due to my time management and my current busy schedule, but partly I can pin the blame on the Internal Editor. And knowing is like half the battle, right?

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