I'm not a passionate writer. Heck, I'm not particularly passionate about anything. Sure, I'm passionate about my family's well-being and would rip the heart out of my chest to save their lives. I'm passionate in my hatred of the New York Yankees (Teixiera you are a LOSER!!). Sorry, I do get carried away. I'm passionate about the books and authors I like. I'm passionate about the craft of writing.
But when it comes to writing itself, not so much.
I know authors who love their books, who fuss over them like babies, admiring their books developments with pride and wonder. I know writers who view their books as pieces of art, giving their souls to their creation like Michealangelo probably did over "David." These writers truly see their books as extensions of themselves. The manuscripts they slave over are as much a part of them as their arms and legs, they devote themselves to their books' maturation, nurturing them along with sweet care. It's beautiful, really, a tribute to the creative nature of human beings.
Then there's me.
I'm fast and lose with my books. I don't write with a burning flame, I don't write with the tender care of an artist. I kind have a Henry Ford sensibility to my writing. My books are on an assembly line. Each element is added in a progression. I never write out of chronological order. I can't think like that. I don't edit while I'm going, quality control has to pick that up before the book is shipped out. I'm also fickle. If the book isn't what I want by a certain point, it is tossed on the scap heap, a rusty haven for my failed ventures whose only use could be the parts available. What's pathetic is that this has happened during the final stretch. I set out to build a Bentley and ended up with a Yugo. The disadvantage of my writing like this is that the book can't be fixed. I've tried and I've ended up with a mess. It's easier to start over.
I've been thinking a lot about this because I follow Joely Sue's progress. She pours so much into her writing. She puts in so much for her books, it blows me away. Such hard work screams passion. I can feel the love she has for her books in the care she gives them, the time and energy she puts in their development. I admire her immensely.
Are you passionate about your writing? How do you express it? Or are you more temperate like me? And are you passionate in your hatred of the Yankees (except for Derek Jeter who would look awfully hot in Dodger Blue)?