This question has been on my mind a lot lately. What kind of furniture do I want, what kind of house, tenant, experience while moving? Most of these questions have been answered in due course with input from the husband.
But now as I sit alone in quiet house the question has changed. What do “I” want? Of my time, productivity, to feel as I try to accomplish these things. Earlier in the week I felt very resentful that there was so much to do that I hadn’t really been writing or even blogging on any kind of quality level. Then I was terrified that I “needed” to write was wasn’t. What was wrong with me? Didn’t I care about my chosen career path? And then a few blessed friends and family whispered and shouted out in emails- you’ve only been there a week! And so something more like rational thought has returned to me this morning.
I think part of the crux for me likes in a change of project. I feel that its right I’m more inspired about working on it but the beginner writer in me shouts “no, the first thing we started MUST be finished before we move on” and the critic in me says “Nice pattern your starting their.” The grown up professional in me knows that most authors don’t publish their first work first, because it was their learning piece as is mine, and that being so has a lot of issues. This other part of me also knows that to continue when the passion is almost depleted just to say “I did it” is pointless especially if it ends up being so much less than it could have been if I had just taken a break.
So here I stand choosing to do something different. This new project requires research and a sensitive hand. It could be so cliché or trite if I’m not careful, it could also be incredibly powerful and moving. Now I just have to remember that these things (research and planning) are as much writing as the getting words on paper/screen. This book will be nowhere near as long as my monster-100,000 word fantasy. I think that less is more, with this one.
Now I just have to get gutsy enough to get one it.