I may not be a good writer, but writing is the only thing that I actually want to keep doing, at least for now. To be perfectly honest, I’m not even confident about my writing, so to think that having people read my stories and actually tell me that they’re decent is something I never would have thought would ever happen to me.
Another thing I hadn’t ever expected would be my story possibly getting published next year. I haven’t really said any details about this to majority of my readers, but to anyone who’s possibly reading this, then yes, it is possible that we might see The Heartbroken Heartbreaker in print by 2015, but I’m not going into details for now. (Filipinos will probably know what publishing company approached me anyway.)
Now, I am completely psyched about this. I’ve known this for quite a while now and it’s been really hard to keep a secret this big. It’s an opportunity I can’t pass up on–not just because I want to get published, or because of the money I might get from it–but also because my Mom and my close relatives are rooting for this to happen, and I guess that’s my main motivation.
Recently, however, I have been stuck at a crossroad, and from here on, I’m finding it hard to move.
First off, I’ve been re-reading THH for days now. I have to, because I want to edit the shit out of it so that it’s not going to be just another of “those Wattpad books.” I want it to be perfect. To be different. To be deserving. And to be perfectly, absolutely, completely honest? It. Sucks.
THH is, and always will be, something I will hold dear to me for the rest of my life. That, however, doesn’t mean that I can’t see its flaws (cliche plot, tendency to have childish scenes written from an immature 14 year old’s perspective, CLICHE PLOT, moments that make me go WTF). I know it’s a far cry from perfection, at least by my standards, and it does not deserve to be published. At least not as it is right now. Which brings me to my second point:
I want to revise it. A lot. If anything, I want to scrap the whole thing. This is a matter of importance to me because years from now, I want to be able to look back and not be embarrassed of my first published novel. I don’t want to be associated with a work that I am not entirely proud of.
However, while I want to revise it, I also want to keep most of it. If anything, the first few chapters will take most of the hit, and the rest of the chapters will only be slightly changed, but I want to keep its essence, to recapture it so it’s not changed so much as it has improved. And I’m all right with this, because I seriously want THH to be the best that it can be, and I don’t mind having sleepless nights just so I can edit it.
There’s a catch though.
I’ve been told that I should omit cuss words. Especially the word “fuck.”
Well, fuck. I use the word “fuck” a lot when I write. I’ve used it so much that it doesn’t even seem like a cuss word to me anymore. And I stand by my opinion that “bad words” are only “bad” because “society says so” because what the fuck is wrong with the word fuck? Nothing. People just see it as something bad because we’ve been told that it is bad. It’s just a word, along with all the other “bad words.” THEY’RE JUST WORDS. And if this is the way I write, then I don’t want to fucking change it because this is the way I fucking write.
When I found out about this whole cussing thing, I literally felt miserable. Confession: Not just once had I thought about declining this opportunity because I honestly, honestly, honestly don’t want my first published novel to be something that only ever got this far because it’s cliche, and people love cliches, therefore people loved it. But I figured it’s too good of an opportunity to pass up on. Even if I want to decline, I wouldn’t be able to, because I would always think of what my mom or my aunts or my uncles or my big brother would say about not grabbing this chance, about letting go of all that money, about being too choosy when i should be happy that I even got lucky enough to be offered a publishing contract when I’m barely 18 years old.
But not only do I have to edit something I don’t even want to be read by the people I know, I also have to remove the “bad words” because it’s “teen fiction.”
What? Do they honestly believe that teenagers don’t toss the word “fuck” around? If anything, teenagers are probably one of the age groups that cuss a lot. Fuck that. That’s not the way freedom of expression works. I should not be forced to change the way I write just to get the big bucks, but in a world where money is the only thing that keeps the world turning (note the sarcasm), I can’t help but feel like I have to value my financial gain from the publishing deal over my need to write the way I want to.
*insert melodramatic sigh*
I guess I’m just frustrated because my family keeps on telling me to start editing it already when I’m barely passing my classes and I hardly ever sleep before 2 am just to finish my daily schoolwork. Oh, and they will probably antagonize me when they find out how badly I’ve been doing lately. I don’t even know what to feel anymore.
I want to reject the offer because I don’t want to fucking deal with this anymore, but I honestly can’t when I think about it and try to take everything into consideration. I’m just upset that while it may seem like I have a choice, that I can decide whether I should accept the offer or not, the truth is that the circumstances I’m going through and have gone through have become restrictions that make it impossible for me not to choose the former.
And it’s not a fucking choice.
(Sorry if the first post is a bit heavy, but posts will depend on my mood, and I assure you that not everything will be this dull. On another note, you can drop me comments here or on http://ask.fm/iamsammadison. i’ll probably accept post requests or whatever)