The quest for perfection is an oddity. Towards the start of last month, I wanted to start writing something amazing. Something brilliant. Something that will change the life of whoever reads it. So naturally, I wrote something, and deleted it as not good enough, and wrote something, and deleted it, and so on.
Instead now, I'm just accepting the likelihood that my first draft isn't going to be wonderful, and now words are flowing. I'm not even entirely sure what happens next half the time, but that isn't the point. The point is that, by allowing myself the luxury of possibly writing poorly (something I can't always afford in the day job. I'd never meet the ghost-writing deadlines) I'm getting stuff written. Stuff that I can then make better as needed.
And yet... well, there's always the other side of this, isn't there? The writers who churn out the same old stuff again and again. The ones who don't have anything interesting to say, or just produce another teen vampire romance exactly like everyone else's teen vampire romance (is anyone still doing this?) There is a point where it's important to say to yourself that you can do better than that, so where does the balance lie?
For myself, I just want to do the best with an idea I can. Preferably by trusting myself to keep going until the end. There's enough red ink waiting after that.