This is going to be one of those posts. Feel free to skip ahead to a more productive, happier post.
It strikes me that I have been working on this novel, more off than on, but still working on it, for over a year now. I’ve given up on it a few times, only to be drawn back. I want to finish it, to get it over and done with. And having finished it, I want to put it out there to see if I can get a bite.
And yet, at the same time, I don’t. I think its a good story; I think it has voice, and sticky barbed hooks to drag you under with. But I’ve been staring at the same characters in the same scenes for so long now, I’m really tired of it all and just want to shelve it. I won’t. I can’t. I’ve said too often that I plan on finishing it. Every time I’ve tried to break away from it, I’ve failed and fallen back to it. It will be completed.
It sure feels like I’m writing uphill, both ways, just to get to the end of this.
Thanks for letting me have this moment of selfish whining. Back to what you were doing.
