Writing is Hard. Except for Blogs, because Nobody Reads it Anyway

Woohoo. No preamble whatsoever, because that's how I roll.

So I wrote a book. Yes, actually. And don't be a jerk and be all "Can I like buy it, like at Borders?" because A) Borders is closed now and I miss it and thanks for rubbing that in, jackass and B) no, because it's not published. You don't just write a book and then Harper Collins and Scholastic show up the next morning and bid for your attention. At least not while you're awake.

So I wrote a book. But I'm not DONE writing the book, I just FINISHED the book. I know. It makes no sense. Here's what I mean. I wrote the whole thing. It has a beginning, a middle, and an end. If it were Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone (and oh that it were), I wrote the part where he becomes a wizard ("but I cahn't be a wizard, I'm just -prepubescent squeak- Harry!") and the part where he has friends and does spells and Seamus burns his eyebrows off a couple times and we learn blond kids are jerks and Jesus I don't remember anything that happens in this book and the part where he goes down and looks in a mirror and defeats Voldemort through the magic of self-confidence or something. I'm not sure. It's been a while.

The point is, I WROTE all that. I have it. I even printed it out, so it's on paper and everything.
But I'm not happy yet. I don't like it. Like Ron still has purple hair and Hermione pretty much sounds like a jerk the whole time and there's this whole character named Barney that just needs to go. Or comparable issues, but in my book.  So I'm fixing it. Revising it. Editing, you know, that fancy writing term.

But I can never bring myself to actually do it. It's always late at night, when I'm almost asleep, that I'm like "YES WRITE A NOVEL NOW NOW NOW THIS WOULD BE THE PERFECT THING TO DO RIGHT NOW I SWEAR."
And that doesn't happen, because half of that thought was already a dream about sneaking off to the Potions room with a Slytherin boy anyway. (It should be clear by now that I like Harry Potter too much.)

So what do I do? I write a blog instead. Because that's productive. All 28 of you who have ever viewed this page, in, you know, all time surely are glad that I'm back. Woofreakinghoo.
Ah, look, I ended the same as I started. That's consistency right there.