They’re like my children…

They’re like my children…

I’m sure you’ve heard it before from artist type people. That the things the create whether it be music, films, stories, or whatever, they always say things like “My creations are like my children.” It turns out, for me at least, it’s a somewhat a true statement. I’m finding hard to edit, change, or cut parts of my writings. Part of me holds on to things I’ve created. Regardless of whether it may be crap.

I’m at that point where changing things might be a good thing. Nothing has been set in stone by publishing. It should be easy, right? It’s not, for me anyway. They may be redheaded stepchildren. But they’re my redheaded stepchildren (apologies to any redhead who may be reading this.) So I’m considering looking for an editor. Failing that I may pass off a few things to my friends who write if they are willing to wade through it all. I guess I’m looking for the diamond in the rough, so to speak. There has to be at least one…somewhere.

Maybe someday I can be like George Lucas and destroy someone’s childhood memories of my work?

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