Chapter 17: It’s All Crap!

“I’ve read what you gave me to read,” said the muse, after reading what I’d given her to read. “All 20,154 words, not including this chapter, of course. That count does not including the editing changes that you keep making in the draft I have. Next time, don’t edit while I’m read­ ing! It gets me confused. And it fucks up the word count.” “And?” I asked, anxiously. “I hate to say this,” she said, loving to say it, “but it’s all crap. It’s 20,634 words of crap with the latest editing changes. And of course it’s more crap if you include this chapter.” “This is hard to say,” she continued effortlessly, “but it’s clear you’ve learned nothing at all while you’ve been writing. This chapter is your latest effort, and the first seven paragraphs in this chapter, right down to this one are crap.” “Four paragraphs,” I corrected her. “I’ve been editing.” “It doesn’t matter,” she said. “It’s still crap. And it’s not getting any better.” “I have to tell you the truth,” she said, lying. “You don’t have much talent. And what talent you do have, you use badly. Your ideas are stale. Your dialog is stiff. Your characters are weak. Your descriptions are boring. You’ve got bad work habits. You have no self-discipline. And your feet smell awful.” “So what can I do?” I asked. “I really want to finish this book.” “Despite all your many flaws and defects,” said the muse. “I can help you.” “You can?” I asked hopefully. “With everything but the feet,” she said. “Yes,” confirmed Thomas Edison. “Inspiration is 90% perspiration, and perspiration will make his feet smell worse.” “I can live with smelly feet,” I said. “What do I do first?” “Throw out what you’ve written and start over,” she said. “What!” I said. “I mean ‘“Why”?’ I asked.’” “Do you want the truth?” She asked, not caring what I wanted. “Yes,” I said, not wanting to hear it. “What you’ve written is so bad that it can’t be reworked. You need to start over.” “Isn’t there another way?” I asked. “No,” she lied. “Delete it. Find all your backups. Delete them. We’ll start fresh tomorrow.” “I really have to get rid of the whole thing?” I asked desperately. “Every last word,” she said. “I’ll keep the last copy. I’ll explain why, later. You look wor­ ried.” “I am,” I said. “Don’t worry,” she said. “I’ve done this hundreds of times before,” she said, thinking of the hundreds of times she’d kept books from being written. “Alright,” I said reluctantly. “I’ll do it.” “Good,” she said. “Get ready for some real creativity!!” “When?” I asked. Self-Referential Metanovel Writing for Dmmies “In the New Chapter 1!” She said with excitement. “Finish this crappy Chapter 17. Destroy it and all the rest. And then meet me in New Chapter 1!” Self-Referential Metanovel Writing for Dmmies Finally! “Listen to that muse!” my inner critic said. “Finally someone else who tells it like it is. You can count on her to help. And you can count on me.” “I can count on you to criticize,” I said. “You can count on me for honesty,” my inner critic said. “She’s absolutely right. All 20,634 words of it are crap. You really haven’t learned a thing while you’ve been writing. You don’t have much talent. And what talent you do have, you use badly. Your ideas are stale. Your dialog is stiff. Your characters are weak. Your descriptions are boring. You’ve got bad work habits. You have no self-discipline. And your feet do smell awful. Really awful!” I said nothing. “The truth is the truth,” said my inner critic. “I don’t know if she can help you, but I do know that you need help. Your book is going to continue to suck without help.” “Go away and leave me alone,” I said to my inner critic. “The truth hurts,” said my inner critic, “If what we’re telling you hurts, then must be the truth. You can’t fight logic.” Self-Referential Metanovel Writing for Dmmies Antichapter 8: Good News From the antimuse “Good news,” said the antimuse. “I read the title too,” said the Voice. “Get on with it.” “Part one of he plan is underway. I told him what he’s written is crap.” “And?” “I told him he has to destroy it.” “And?” “I told him to meet me in the New Chapter 1.” “And?” “I’m on my way there.” “Is he going to destroy it?” Asked the Voice. “That’s the plan,” said the antimuse. “Don’t worry, I’ve done this before. Gotta go now.” “Wait a minute!” Said the Voice. But another antichapter was over. Refs: 7The Plan84 10He Didn’t Show Up134 Self-Referential Metanovel Writing for Dmmies Please Finish Me! “Please finish writing me,” says the metanovel while I’m working on a draft. “I want to ex­ ist. And I won’t unless you finish. And what’s going to happen if you delete all my copies?” “I’m having trouble finishing,” I say, ignoring the metanovel’s question. “Something’s stop­ ping me. Maybe it’s some unconscious wish not to succeed.” “No,” said the metanovel. “The problem is that you don’t just sit down and write. You pro­ crastinate. Please do something about your procrastination.” The author didn’t plan to face his procrastination, but as he was learning, what happens in his metanovel is often not what he has planned. Self-Referential Metanovel Writing for D*mmies