My current WIP is probably really bad, and I’m pretty excited about it.
I don’t like it when it feels like my stuff sucks. It’s demoralizing. That’s normal, none of us commit time to writing because we really don’t care whether it’s any good. Well, I’m sure there’s some masochist out there who gets off on it (hi! Slide into my DMs, please). And I admit to purposely writing some terrible poetry in my 20s, but that’s because I thought it was hilarious (it was).
Something occurred to me last week as I was staring at my WIP and feeling that overwhelming weight of the unfulfilled word count… No, not just the existential dread about the futility of it all, something else, something actually useful. I remembered my favorite piece of writing advice, a first draft doesn’t have to do anything other than exist. That means, if my first draft is bad, that’s okay. More than that, it means that if I *know* it’s bad, that’s also okay!
I felt so free I wrote 2k words in just a few hours.
It’s not good, but I was flowing. You know how great it feels when the words are just flowing!
I read it over the next day and it was nowhere near as bad as I thought it was. I’ve started to wonder if my “bad” writing isn’t as bad as I’ve led myself to believe. I might actually hit my goal for the month! If nothing else, it feels more possible, and that’s a victory of its own.