Well, everyone, it happened.

I got the editor letter for Nightmares Inc. back!

I won’t bore you with all the details, but here’s the skinny: overall, this letter came back a lot more positive than the one for Kosan back in 2022 did! Now, don’t get me wrong: there are still issues with Nightmares Inc. Issues that’ll take a lot of work to fix. But, unlike with Kosan, I’ve come away this time thinking it possible. My editor said it herself: the problems are fixable. And she said she thought the world I’d created and the story set within it had a lot of potential, even with the problems.

That’s not the main thing I want to talk about tonight, though. No, there was something else that buoyed me, even through the criticism. Now, you may or may not know this, but I’ve never been the best at taking criticism: I’m loads better than I used to be, of course, but it still hurts to see something you worked on so hard for so long get criticized, sometimes harshly. Of course, I’d say a big part of maturing, both as a writer and in general, is acknowledging the fact that at times, we need to go through this in order to keep growing. This is especially true when you’ve chosen to write, or pursue any of the arts, really. And in some ways, I welcome harsh criticism, long as it isn’t needlessly harsh, and is accompanied by praise for what I’ve done well. Because without hearing what you’re doing wrong, you’ll never improve. It’s really that simple.

But, even knowing all that, it still doesn’t feel good to be criticized. And some of the criticism was stark enough (not unwarranted, mind you) to put me in a funk for a few days. To once again drive me into the low point of the Writer’s Rollercoaster, the place where I ask myself, for the eight millionth time, why I’m even doing this, why I thought this was a good idea, why I’ve wasted 15 years of my life on doomed ambitions, and that I really should’ve given up on this silly dream a long time ago and become a plumber. Plumbers make a decent living, right?

However, there was one thing my editor said that shone through, even during those lowest dips. One little compliment she gave. It wasn’t even the biggest focus of her praise; it was, like a sentence or two. But it felt better than all the other compliments combined, because it’s something I’ve specifically struggled with through much of my writing life, and have worked like a dog to improve.

My descriptions.

I’ve never been a strong descriptive writer. Or, at least, that was the case up until the Kosan letter. And I knew it, too. Descriptions were the weak spot I was most aware of. My descriptions have always been lacking, being too sparse in general, and then either vague and uninteresting or detailed in the wrong ways when I do bother to give them. Part of the reason for this, I think, is because I tend to skim over descriptions when I’m reading. I’m generally a plot-driven reader. I want to read stories that hook me in, make me beg to know what happens next. I don’t generally care what a landscape looks like, beyond giving me a general picture of what’s actually going on.

But after getting that Kosan letter, I decided I was going to work on my descriptive writing. I bought and read a book about just that topic; I also made sure to slow down a bit when I read (at least at certain points), to really absorb the way certain authors described the world around them, what the characters were seeing, hearing, feeling, and so on. George R.R. Martin was a particularly good one to study; no one who’s read A Song of Ice and Fire will deny the books are gripping (well, except maybe the last two books, depending on who you ask, but that’s another story). But he balances that so well with vivid, evocative descriptions that, if you take the time to read them, really make you feel like you’re there.

That’s what I wanted to capture. And so, I worked at it. When I wrote, I tried to remember the lessons I’d learned from Word Painting (the book on descriptive writing I bought), and from reading how other authors did it. I applied those lessons to my drafts, including Nightmares Inc., doing my best to flesh out the descriptions, evoke a stronger sense of place.

And then, I get my Nightmares Inc. letter back, and my editor compliments my descriptive writing!

That right there is proof. Proof positive that I can get better. That there is hope!

Now, does that mean my descriptive writing is as good as it ever can be? That I shouldn’t still work to improve it? Of course not. After reading A Song of Ice and Fire for the first time—the series which reawakened my passion for reading and writing—I took to social media and made the bold claim that I thought I could write that well one day. That, if I put in enough work, I could reach George R.R. Martin’s level. Was I overestimating my ability? Aiming too high? Perhaps. I’ll admit it’s possible. What I’m trying to say here, though, is that I’m nowhere near his level yet, in any way, including my descriptions. There’s still room to improve. I know that, and I’m goanna keep working at it.

But at the same time, I can look at my editor’s letter and say yes, there is a positive, tangible sign that I’m not completely wasting my time. That I’m getting better. And that, if I take the lessons from this letter to heart, I can get even better, make the next draft of Nightmares Inc. that much stronger, and then, well…

Maybe my dream will come true one day.

Anyway, though, I know it won’t happen if I don’t keep putting in the work. I’ve paused work on Dante’s Inferno now—to be honest, I’m starting to think that book needs some reworking, especially after the feedback my editor gave me on Nightmares Inc.—and switched over to the Nightmares Inc. trilogy. The plan is to fully figure out how I’m fixing book 1, and then start simultaneously working on a new Nightmares Inc. draft, while also starting proper work on its sequel, DreamHackers Ltd. And, perhaps, also do some plotting and worldbuilding for the Procurers, Kosan, Keepers of Eternity, Dante’s Inferno, all those.

Oh, and Usi, too. Zuza’s getting impatient with me again. I keep telling her I want her story told as badly as she does, but she never believes me. It’s a big story, I try to tell her, the biggest I’ve ever tried to tell. There are a lot of moving parts, and a whole bunch of worldbuilding stuff I have to figure out before I even attempt to write draft 1 of your book again.

Of course, she doesn’t like that. But she’ll put up with it, for now. She knows Leo and Darcie are ahead of her in the queue. But it’ll only be so long before she takes the reins again. And when she does, I’m not sure she’ll let me go again at least until that first book is done.

But we’ll see. For now, my focus is on Nightmares Inc. Improve it. Get another draft done. Tighten up the story. Then, after that, we’ll see.

OK, I think that’s everything I wanted to say. Oh, except for this, of course:

Have fun, stay safe, keep reading!