Illustration by Ylisha Vinluan at paint.poro
To say I’m a night owl is putting it mildly… If staying up until the wee hours were a sport, I’d be an Olympic medalist. My most regular activity during Dracula’s promenade time is reading (the ‘just one more chapter’ lie never ceases to spin its evil, alluring spell), but recently I’ve also started writing during this time – it’s usually dead quiet, and nobody bothers me with annoying things like wanting to chit-chat and socialise (how dare they?). Sometimes, I even indulge in a Netflix marathon of an evening, although these have become quite rare.
Naturally, I also embrace the arrogant mindset that all late-night revellers do; the ‘I will happily face the consequences of my decision to stay up late’ fallacy. And without fail, I always (always!) regret it when I have to drag my withered carcass from my bed the following morning… My late-night bravado forgotten, and my consequence-facing-chutzpah completely drained.
Why am I regaling you with this (not particularly unique) habit of mine? Because I’m currently doing it and would like to document this travesty-in-adulting as it occurs.
As a 35-year-old, having a valid reason for being up after 12am makes me feel justified in my self-sabotaging behaviour, and tonight my excuse (er, reason) is that I had to finish updating what feels like the 1000th edit of Assays. I have officially reached the point where I’m unable to suspend my disbelief when reading a story that had previously thrilled and entertained me no end (both to write and then read), but which I have subsequently beaten to death through nonstop re-reads.
The imposter syndrome is manifesting quite intensely, with every character seeming one-dimensional and every action trite; the dialogue derivative and the story predictable…
Luckily for me, though, my sister also did a re-read (her second one to date), so she still has a ‘fresh’ perspective. Thank goodness, because her positive feedback and our discussion today buoyed my flailing self-confidence and gave me my second breath to complete all the updates this evening. The manuscript is uploaded, and the updated covers too!
Now, I eagerly await the second proof copy of the book (the first one having been duly pulled apart in this last re-read) so I can finally send this paper and ink Creature on its way – much as Victor Frankenstein did his. It can only be hoped mine doesn’t return in vengeance as his did and beat me to a pulp.
Unfortunately, my midnight oil is now running very low and my brain seems to be heaving the same way those old MS DOS computers used to do in my primary school computer lab. Methinks hitting the hay is in order.
Tschüss!
K.I.S.
