So this series was a bust.
Here I am, almost supposed to have my WIP finished and, more importantly, to have beaten my nemesis, the Internal Editor.
What happened?, you so kindly ask. Let me fill you in. So here I was prancing along, three days into this thing and then BAM! Fear tripped me up.
|Shutterstock speaks for themselves.|
There goes my chocolatey-good resolve. Funny thing, I actually eat a heck lot more when I’m disheartened. It’s my way to cope. So for the sake of my waist size I’ve decided enough was enough…again. See that’s my problem. I make these great speeches, and I like to think I have pretty fine dreams/goals, but I can never see myself through to finishing a lot of them (i.e. finishing a novel).
So what’s my problem? Fear. Actually that deserves to be capitalized AND italicized, y’know, for dire emphasis. FEAR.
Truth be told–and I’m baring my heart here (haha. i like that kinda-pun with the picture above. i’m good. xD)–I’m scared to finish a story. Scared I’m going to fail at writing, which FYI is the stupidest and most irrational excuse ever.
But then I asked myself what did I fear more? (Totally channeling Family Guy here.)
The conversation went like this:
Me: Okay. This really has to stop. I mean, what do you fear more–finishing a story and failing at its epic suckyness (<–not a word btw) or failing to finish at all?
|(long pause filled with a black-and-white O MacDonalds rendition in my head)|
Me: Yeah… This should be a no-brainer, right. Right?
So I’ll probably continue to doubt myself, but in the meantime I’ll also be writing. And just as soon as I figure out how to put a word count widget on the blog, I’ll post up regular updates of the trial and tribulations I’m sure to face while finishing my WIP.
Till then, toodles.