Holy fuck, I hate my writing. I stare at it. It stares back. You know it’s a bad day when your manuscript starts staring back at you. Self-satisfied jerk. A few nice turns surrounded by total drek. I really would rather edit my paper on the Microcrystalline Structure of Nose Hair.
Wait, what if I deleted this sentence? I can’t even look at my manuscript with it there. But if I delete it, then I go right to the next sentence, which I don’t hate quite so much. OK, maybe I’ll change a few words to ease this transition. Now it’s merely painful. Before it was something that I could have written better when I was thirteen.
I’m going to move this paragraph to the next page, where it fits in better. God, that makes it look better. I only hate this a little bit. Maybe another half hour of editing wouldn’t hurt.
Sometimes you just have to make the hate work for you.