Before I published, several authors advised me to avoid reviews. I’ll admit to not being perfect about it but by and large, I have skipped over them. Not because I don’t appreciate them, I absolutely do. It’s an amazing feeling to see the impact a book I wrote had, both good and bad.
The problem, though, is that the bad ones get stuck in my head but so do the good ones. I worry about the readers who are expecting x, y or z. I struggled to clear the noise out of my brain and just write the story that the characters need. And let me tell you, it’s a hell of a lot harder than it looks.
Late last week, I received some particularly rough feedback from my editor. This is the third book that has epically kicked my ass. I’ve missed the emotional notes. I’ve missed the character development. The stories are not emotionally satisfying and most of all, they’re not romance. So I’ve had a hell of a time finding the heart of these stories. I’ve been struggling mightily to get it right. So after a little bit of sulking and wound licking, I dusted myself off and figured it out (I heart my editor, a woman who is not afraid to tell me no, this character did not engage me. at all). And I wrote. I wrote and wrote and wrote and it poured out of me.
And while this was happening, I was not checking twitter constantly.
I’m still riding that awesome wave of revisions. I want to get this thing cleaned up and polished and turned in but mostly, I want to write. I want to enjoy that rush of getting the story right.
So I’m going off line. I’m going to redirect the Facebook notifications to another folder so I’m not tempted. I’m not going to check in, not even while I’m working out (it’s damn hard to write smexy times when arguing about politics and birth control, let me tell you). I’m going to dive into the revisions at home and counting widgets at work.
I’ll be back when I type the end (this could take a while). So wish me luck!