Writing is Rewriting (right?)

My second novel, which still doesn’t have an official title just yet, has already had three full drafts. I’m currently on my fourth — another overhaul. This latest version feels the cleanest, the closest to my pure vision for the work. I believe the project is approaching its truest self. And that’s a fantastic feeling. As wonderful as writing something at all feels, it’s nothing compared to the bliss of molding the piece. Seeing the thing take proper shape. I don’t have kids, but I imagine the joy and heartache and frustration and wonder isn’t entirely dissimilar. Keep writing, keep writing, keep writing…