Well, it appears I may have jumped the gun a bit when I excitedly proclaimed the initial rough draft of my novella to be complete. It happens, I know, to many writers. That moment when you are so excited, so sure you are almost done, that perhaps you misjudge the work and what is left to be done, and perhaps what it could be with more time and polishing.
This is, however, the first time I have ever done the re-read/editing on my work and been completely dissatisfied. I passed it onto to be edited by someone else, hopeful that after they were done editing they would counter my gut reaction and tell me it was much better than I initially thought. That was not the case. In fact my editor echoed my sentiments exactly. Yes the story all fit together but there was definitely something missing. It was not up to par and lacked that certain something that had endeared my other books to my heart (and hopefully my readers as well). I sat back on my couch and frowned, chosen curse words which my mother would have washed my mouth out with soap had she heard them, quivering on my lips. What in the world do I do now? The whole thing is written. The story told. Where could I add, subtract, squish something else in without damaging the structure of the story? This was going to require quite a bit of chocolate, both for consolation and inspiration purposes.
I once had a trainer who, when I was in the thick of my time competing, told me I had to demand satisfaction from my horse and myself. He said in everything I did, every movement, I needed to ensure that I got what I wanted, what I needed from myself and my horse. I could have sworn my delightfully stubborn and incorigable pony flattened his ears but the statement was a true one and as applicable now as it was then. I have to demand as much satisfaction from my writing, or anything I do, as I did from my horse and myself when I was riding. I have to accept nothing less than what is correct and true and make sure I hold myself to that standard always.
So, here I stand, with one novel (the next one I was planning on working on) partly started and one novella (finished but not satisfactorily) and I am about to dismantle them both, thread by thread, line by line, and in their recreation demand complete satisfaction.