Just Do It
I, like most writers I imagine, am extremely critical of my own work. Most of the time I read through what I've written and I just hate it, for one reason or another. I bog myself down in endless drafts, re-writes, and agonizing thoughts of it just not being good enough. This is a big problem for me- to the point that it literally paralyzes my pen. The other night I was sitting, staring at the pages I have written so far on my novel, and suddenly this thought popped into my head - who gives a damn? I mean, really, who cares if this sucks huge purple oranges? I write because I love to, because I am compelled to. I write because it is what I am meant to do. If that means I never make a dime from it, and no one ever reads what I have created beyond myself and my few friends, then so what?

From that astonishing revelation I have determined to go at this project with a new tact- I just sit down and write. A thousand words a day, perhaps, whatever falls into my brain. I write, and I write, and I write. I write until this book is finished. THEN, and only then, will I go back and start the drafting process, the rewrites, and the tweaking. At least at that point I will have an opus to be magnum.

06 February 2007