A bit of honesty right here. I struggle with reading. I struggle with writing. Now that I am in the editing phase of my novella, I struggle with editing. What really upsets me is looking back on the self that wrote a sentence that later makes me cringe, or reading a paragraph I've written, thinking it good, only to be disappointed by the lack of depth contained therein. Luckily, though, I haven't found a "method"to cure me of bad writing, except that I have come to the understanding that disappointment, frustration, even that sick little feeling you get when something you've written goes out into the world you know isn't your finest, are all helpful reminders that writing, like life, are unfinished projects that continue to evolve, mature, grow.
If I were writing genre fiction, not that I'm knocking genre fiction, I would be less inclined to obsess over sentences, focusing on plot and character as it relates to theme, and using the sentence only to carry the weight of those ideas. But as a literary minded writer, a closet poet, a man in love with the artful phrase, I can only say that I am compelled to try and write musically. This comes at a cost. Alienation for some; disappointment for me.
I wish when I said, "It's done, or, done enough," I didn't have to read back what I had written in a month and decided that what I had thought "done" was simply another draft. It pains me to look over and edit a previous draft, then another, then another, and hone further, refine further, excise each page of everything that rings false. But that is the process of writing, a symptom of the writing life. You simply have to dive back in. It is imperative that before the next time you send something out into the world (even something as a Blog post), that it accurately reflects your thoughts at the time you thought them, and on a mechanical level it is vital you catch your basic mistakes in punctuation and grammar.
I am speaking to myself here. I am a notoriously bad typer and these modern keyboards don't instill confidence in me, especially when I have to fix a missed keystroke, or a wrong one. I have to stop, address the red line beneath a misspelled word on the page and it's them my thoughts go awry...sometimes. But let me make no excuses for myself. Let me press on and write and commit to my commitments to improve. Writing, after all, is a journey of self, of self-discovery, of self-mastery, and all that takes a bit of time.
(I know I'll read this later and find something in it I hate!)