I am currently struggling with Writer’s Doubt. Not Writer’s Block – I actually just wrote an amazing 17,000 words in under a week, which is what I’m here to talk about. And not Imposter Syndrome, where I think I don’t deserve the accolades I’ve been given, because I haven’t really received any accolades lately. (Well, my chapter was chosen to begin the new Collaborative Writing Challenge novel, which is nice, but isn’t bringing me any fame or fortune.)

So back to my Writer’s Doubt and the 17,000 words I just spat out. A few weeks ago, my son gave me a great idea for a short story. What if there was a type of couples therapy where you could time-travel to a violent altercation, inhabit the bodies of two people involved, and just beat the crap out of each other?

I immediately envisioned a Black Mirror-esq storyline and sat down to write it last week. The words flowed from me in a way that nothing has flowed in almost a year. It was pretty much all I did, all day, for five days in a row. I wrote over 5,000 words in one day. That has NEVER happened to me before, even when I was participating in NaNoWriMo.

All along the way, I kept thinking of new twists and exciting character developments. Red herrings, fresh perspectives, unique backstories that wouldn’t exactly come into play, but that would give purpose to actions and make everything feel more authentic and relatable. I felt possessed by a muse. I was just the vessel for whatever writing god saw fit to use me and I was so, so grateful. I have been needing to write and I finally, finally was.

Then when it was all finished, I went back to read. And this beautiful story that I thought was going to be on par with Stephen-Fucking-King is just…mediocre. It would probably get an A- in a high school English class and a solid B in an undergrad creative writing course at the local community college. Technically sound but overall meh.

So now I’m not asking myself so much why? as I am how? Usually when I’m writing something mediocre, I can tell as I’m writing it. I’m not excited about it. I’m struggling to find the words. I allow myself to get easily distracted from it. But this was different. I LOVED writing it. How did I get it so wrong?

Well anyway, it’s now time for a second draft. I’ll make the improvements that I can. Then I’ll send it to my husband and see what he thinks. Then I’ll revise it again. Maybe I’ll send it to a writing buddy or two and see what they think and try to discern if they’re being honest (people almost always say “It was great!”) If I can perk it back up, maybe I’ll try to get it published somewhere. But if none of that happens, I’ll add it to my website here, and just try to remember that even if I don’t love the finished product, I enjoyed the hell out of the process.