What I’ve Learned from Editing My Own Work (Painfully)

You sip your overpriced coffee, pound the keyboard like it owes you money, and when you finally hit that last period—you lean back, smug, thinking: I nailed it.

Then you read it the next morning.

And it sucks.

Not a little. A lot. Like "did I write this during a fever dream or under anesthesia?" level bad. Welcome to editing—where your ego goes to die and your real writing begins.

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