Ever get tired of those goals, those dreams and ideas that you never have time for? Yeah, me too. I've become disillusioned with my own procrastination. The truth is, there will never been a good time for me to sit down and finish one of the many writing projects I've started. I work full time and do freelance bits and pieces on the side. I commute to work every day and have a social life. Writing is not something I feel I have a great deal of time for.
So I was mulling it over just over a week ago, considering that National Novel Writing Month was coming up, a month I've long known about and never participated in (who has time for that?). I was umming and ahhing for most of last week, terrified that I'd start and not be able to finish (that might still happen!) or that I'd get waylaid by my need to go back over everything and edit before I could progress, getting caught in endless days of crafting that one perfect sentence.
I knew that if I decided to take part, it would involve a huge step change, it would involve opening myself up to a sketchy first draft, one which will require A LOT of work to shape up. I knew that taking part would mean shutting off the little voice in my head telling me my idea wasn't working. It would mean waking up mornings and writing over breakfast, writing on my commute to and from work and writing in the evenings. It would mean focus and concentration and shutting the world out.
The truth is, just two days in and I'm reminded of the pure joy of letting go, of writing a story with all its delicate twists and turns. I'm aware that my attitude by tomorrow/end of this week/ mid-month may have changed but even if I don't come out of this experience with a first draft of a full novel, I will come out of it having remembered why I love to write.
Monday, 2 November 2015