I have sitting on my desktop a story that's probably good enough for publishing. I've been told that by writers who get paid to write sci fi that it is. As I type this it lears at me from the other monitor. 'Good Earth, Final revision' says the file name. It's anything but.
I've stared at the words and sentences for so long I'm not certain I'm capable of seeing the needed changes. And there must be needed changes. Otherwise it would be time to submit it. So I tuck it away again safely. I'll spend some more time editing it later, I say.
Sigh. This is starting to feel like a rant, but at what point does one say "This is good?" There will always be that sentence or paragraph that doesn't quite flow. The concept that stayed in your head rather than on the paper.
I'm looking at another collection of stories and thinking that this will result just like the other things. Only twenty two times as much editing and re-editing. No, it won't. Well, maybe it won't. I hope it won't.
Back to editing.