Too, too much

Very interesting article here about the origins of literary revision and how it has altered over the years:

Revising Your Writing

I've never been great at revising and editing. I'm much more a fan of plunging forward with enthusiasm and a vain hope that somehow the work I produce will magically turn out to be brilliant. Over the years though I've started enjoying editing. Taking a big enthusiastic mess and turning it into something I'm happy with (or at least something I don't actively want to set fire to) is a lot more fun than it used to be.

Writing always feels like drawing to me. You start with a sketch, you add lines and shading, you rub out what doesn't work, you add second and third layers and paint over the bits you hate. The finished result rarely resembles exactly what you pictured in your mind. And the big problems you notice straight away in the finished item (bad perspective, misshapen faces, upside down feet) are usually not caused by the last coat of paint, but by a problem deep down in the sketching.

I've come to like editing, especially the stage you reach where you're no longer looking at the sculpture with your eyes but running your figures across its surface and feeling where the lumpy, awkward bits are. You smooth out some places; add texture to others. But at heart it's still the same piece of work you started out with... even if you lose patience, smoosh the clay back down to a single lump, and build something entirely new out of it.

Like most of my metaphors, I'm sure this one will fall apart if I poked at it too long, so I'll leave it at that.