Today must be the day of Jenny M. because she makes yet another appearance on this here blog with more timely words that I’ve aimed at my own psyche. To wit:
So if I’m so impatient, how did I ever finish the book? I wonder myself. I tend to start things – and finish them. I just did an interview where one question was: “How can I become a writer?” I answered, “Write, write, write and read, read, read”, but I could have said “Write and finish what you start.” It never gets easier. It never goes faster. Sometimes you write yourself into a dead end. Then you have to unravel the story – sort of like knitting, and start again. Sometimes you forget what the story was supposed to be about, and you have to spend hours cutting out what doesn’t matter – like pruning dead wood off a tree. It’s never a smooth journey. It’s often frustrating. And when the book is done and published – you’ll always find the odd typo or mistake that got passed up. You shrug and try not to think about it too much. And when the book is for sale you wait for the readers to chime in.
Over the years of our acquaintance I have come to rely quite a bit on this kind of wisdom from my author buddy living abroad. This one is timely because I’ve been ruminating this very subject since last fall and over the course of this dark, cold winter. I’ll be expounding on this in better detail this coming week.