Love Is the Last Step in Your Story’s Editing Process

If you’re not overflowing with an inexplicable love for the story you just wrote, it’s not ready to go into the world.

I carry this deep shame about some of the stories I’ve published before. I don’t want to look at them. I don’t want to be confronted by the truth they tell: That I could’ve done better. That I could’ve painted a more vivid picture. That I could’ve poured more of myself into these stories.

These stories make me feel like a fraud.

They remind me that I am a garbage person who is disrespectful of other people’s time, a snobbish, self-centered child who believes that something that’s not good enough for me can somehow be good enough for other people, so I refuse to face them.

Deep down, a part of me knows that if I ever look at those stories, I might have to take them down out of respect for my readers.

And I hope that maybe — just maybe — someone else will like them and validate me. Sometimes, someone may look past the soullessness they exude and appreciate the message, but most times, no one really looks at them at all.

You are your number one fan

In the beginning, I obsessed over every sentence, every word, and every synonym. I needed to know that when all was said and done, what I had created was a beautiful work of art. But along the way, something changed.

Maybe it was when I started editing my sentence structure, my flow, my voice to fit into Grammarly's stiff standards. Or maybe, I became lazy after coming across many seemingly successful but poorly written stories.

I became convinced that it’s okay to put out sub-standard work. That if the reader is okay with it, then I didn’t have to sweat it. But in so doing, I alienated the most important reader: me.

I stopped enjoying my work. I lost the excitement I used to obtain from my words, from my craft. Shame replaced the joy I used to derive from reading my work. Slowly, writing started feeling like a chore.

You are your first reader. You are your number one fan.

If you don’t like your story, chances are no one else will like it either.

Most times we get caught up in the idea of writing for the reader that we end up selling our souls in the process. We end up writing about topics we don’t care about, and in the most boring style possible.

In the end, this only demotivates us from creating more.

You can not promote what you don’t love.

I tend to do a lot of work(mentally) to promote the stories I don’t like.

“It doesn’t matter that I don’t like this story. I am writing it for the reader. This story is not about me. You never know who might benefit from it.” — These are a few of the things I’d say to myself to share an empty story.

What you love, you share automatically. What you don’t love, you will have to do a lot of work to convince yourself to share it.

Sharing a good story, a story that you truly love happens automatically. You are so excited about what I just created that you can not help but share it.

And even if people don’t like it. Even if your readers don’t meet it with the same joy that you put into writing it, you don’t take it personally. You do not beat yourself up. You simply charge forth knowing that you did your best.

Love is the mystical armor that shields you from the otherwise overwhelming pain of rejection.

Negativity spreads faster than a wildfire.

Sometimes I read a story and I can feel that the author was having fun while writing it.

It’s almost as if the author’s background state of mind snuck into the story, while they were writing it, forming an experiential backdrop to their words. It’s almost as if their invisible energy continues to flow behind the words carrying the author’s state of mind forth into our hearts.

What we share with art is not just the art itself but the state consciousness in which we created the art.

It’s not about the words. It’s the energy behind the words.

Shame is no different. Your dislike for your story, your shame, will quietly trail behind your sentences and into your readers’ hearts.

If you put out a story that your even slightly ashamed of, what you’re sharing is your shame — the negative frame of mind with which you wrote your story. And that will compound through your audience faster than a wildfire. Your readers will cringe at the sight of your awkward sentences.

And with time, your audience will slowly lose interest in your work.

Final thoughts

It’s easy to get caught up in the confusing web of meeting your reader’s requirements while editing your work. This process is how I quickly started to loathe my craft.

You are your number one fan.

Allow your stories to simmer. To marinate in the background of your consciousness. Leave them in your drafts folder for a while before you edit. And when you edit, do so until you are overflowing with an inexplicable love for the story you just wrote.

If all else has failed, if you have followed all your editor’s guidelines but still feel that your story isn’t ready, ask yourself this: “Am I in love with this story.” If your answer is no, then your story isn’t ready for public consumption.