Whereas to me that's the whole beauty of it--that there's always something more to strive for.

Huh. I have a lot of respect for the work I've done, you know? I'm trying to imagine telling myself that the stories I've been telling are somehow insufficient. To me, that would be disrespecting myself, diminishing the work I've already done.

I think I'd burn my manuscripts and never write another word.

I'm curious now, about how other writers out there see the things they've already written, individual approaches. I know what mine is, I think (not sure) I know what Susan's is, I've had a glimpse of ita's.

Anyone? What are some other individual writer's roads out there?

I don't strive for a mythical ideal of perfection, but I'm more with Susan in wondering where I could do better, at least in terms of execution.

Haven't you ever finished a piece, Deb, and thought, "Huh. I could have streamlined that scene, or enriched that character?"

For me, there's a distinction between story and the actual execution of it, too. I know when I was acquiring, I read a lot of manuscripts that had enormous potential, story-wise, and were written horribly. And vice versa -- manuscripts where the author had an elegant command of language, but essentially didn't have a story to tell.

I like everything I've ever written to one degree or another, because my interest in the characters and the situation is what motivated me to write it in the first place. But there are a lot things that I look at now and think, Yeah, I could have been clearer. More concise, or more descriptive, or whatever. I think as writers we all hone our skills over time.

I'm with Deb, though, in not having an ideal of perfection. For me, the only ideal is writing things that I want to write, and enjoy writing, and being paid for them, which is part and parcel of having a readership who wants to read them. It's not unreachable, but it's tough.

Well, in my mind I'm not telling myself that what I've already done is insufficient, though I realize how it could sound like that. On one level it's just a basic philosophy of mine that there's always more to learn, always room for improvement. And on another level, it's about setting challenges for myself. E.g. with Lucy I was daring myself to actually finish a novel. With Anna, I looked at my writing and said, "Susan, you've proven you can finish a book, but if you really want to make a go of this, you need to get better at plotting. So don't shirk that really plotty sequel you have in mind for Anna's character--go for it, and do it right."

Haven't you ever finished a piece, Deb, and thought, "Huh. I could have streamlined that scene, or enriched that character?"

Yes, on a few occasions. But would I a) go back in time and do it? That would be no; the story is the story, and the woman who was writing the story at the time has presumably evolved a bit from the woman who wrote it at a different moment in time, or b) take that as a cue that I must do it "better" next time? Not enough no in the world, from the chair I write from.

Because unless I'm writing the same story over and over - which I wouldn't do, even if I knew how - the parameters are going to be radically different for each story.

There's a huge, huge difference, to me, between "Hmmm, that scene on page 47 of a book I wrote when I was 35 could have been tighter" and "Ack! Must improve! This isn't good enough!"

For me, that's disrespecting the work I've done. I've never done that; I've got a pretty damned good idea as to how good a writer I am, very few doubts about it. The work I've done that sucked, sucked. The work I've respected and loved enough to send out is what it is. I wouldn't rewrite that particular history. Not saying not to, just saying, I couldn't and wouldn't.

E.g. with Lucy I was daring myself to actually finish a novel. With Anna, I looked at my writing and said, "Susan, you've proven you can finish a book, but if you really want to make a go of this, you need to get better at plotting. So don't shirk from that really plotty sequel you have in mind for Anna's character--go for it, and do it right."

Now that makes sense. It isn't where I live, but it makes more sense than an invisible brass ring, which is what it was sort of sounding like.

That would be no; the story is the story, and the woman who was writing the story at the time has presumably evolved a bit from the woman who wrote it at a different moment in time

Could you write a letter to George Lucas?

I don't like making the same mistakes twice. That's as much as I consider when I go at something.

Could you write a letter to George Lucas?

buHA! I like the Berke Breathed cartoon best: Binkley, dreaming that he's taking Lucas' head off with a light sabre while announcing "Jedis don't wait 17 years for a sequel."

I don't like making the same mistakes twice. That's as much as I consider when I go at something.

Yep. Ditto. But that's why I have seventeen billion comments during the WIP stage, plus an agent, plus an editor, plus some faith in my own ability to tell a story. It's also why I've never - except for Weaver, which was nowhere near done when Ruth Cavin demanded it - been asked to do rewrites before publication. Before I send it out, I'm happy with it.

the story is the story, and the woman who was writing the story at the time has presumably evolved a bit from the woman who wrote it at a different moment in time

That's a really interesting way of looking at it, Deb, and one I don't think I've ever considered. I mean, I have an idea that my writing process, if you want to call it that, is a little more...cerebral? maybe not the right word...than yours, but it might be helpful to consider how much of "me" goes into each particular piece.

One difference, for me, at least, is that I think you're also writing stuff much closer to your heart than I am. Or maybe you're just telling it more from your heart, or a little more honestly. I'm having fun with what I'm writing, but I'm writing within certain parameters, and the books that I dream of writing (and having some lovely editor somewhere buy) are very, very different. I'm not complaining, mind you, because I'm getting paid to write, and for me at least, that's gift enough. I like to play with language and make characters come to life, and even if I'm required to give them a happy ending, it's a lot of fun to make sure they earn it.

"Ack! Must improve! This isn't good enough!"

I don't think that, either, though. I'll see things I might have written a little differently, but for me, a given piece is what it is when my head has decided it's "finished." It's usually just technical stuff I keep in mind for the next book.

I'm curious now, about how other writers out there see the things they've already written, individual approaches.

I tend to think I'm full of shit, and am often embarassed by things I've written.

And I think ego-as-defense is probably my biggest issue when it comes to anything creative, but particularly writing.

I missed this earlier, Cindy. I'm not dissing the ego; it just pays to remember that as a defense mechanism, designed to help keep us from breaking apart under too much criticism or what we perceive as criticism, the ego is not generally going to be your friend in terms of opening up. It's just doing its job.

I tend to think I'm full of shit.

Yes, well, you're WRONG. Pftpftpfptpfptpft.

Amy, I'm sorting it out a bit more here, but it occurs to me, that both you and Susan are working within defined genres, and those have specific issues in the trope itself. I don't know whether the more recent stuff I've done is more from the heart than anyone else's, but I do know that the way I tell it is the way I tell it, and that's the way it is.

And I have books of my own that I prefer to others of my own. But I wouldn't go back and change the ones I love maybe a bit less than the others. Those are just reflective of a different me. They aren't less valid.