I finished editing another section just a few minutes ago, and decided to take a break. I hoped I'd have the whole chapter completed by now, but it's not going as fast as I'd have liked. I am making progress though, so I really shouldn't complain. In the past few days I've knocked out 4 chapters.
On the otherhand, Monday had it's ups and downs. The kids were great, we had a good time, but oy... it hit me that I haven't accomplished even a quarter of the things I'd hoped to do this year.
Not that I've exactly been idle or what have you, but every step I seemed to take forward, in turn, knocked me back two feet. Where, oh where, have I gone wrong?
I sat down with my wip last night, and in looking it over, very nearly chucked the whole thing in the recycle bin. I'd probably be sobbing right now if I had done that - thankfully I didn't. But oh, I wanted too. With a passion.
I honestly can't say what my expectations are - or even what they have been. In truth I never plan that far ahead. I did literally sit back tonight though and ask myself: What the hell are you doing? and What do you want? What do you hope to take away from all this?
I don't know. I have never known. And it bugs me because it feels like I should know what I want, and where I want to go. Doubt about my own writing runs through my mind - am I good enough? But then, how good is good enough? Is there even such a thing? And if there is, who measures it? The writer? The reader? The editor? The critic?
I have no doubt I will finish this current wip, probably in the next week and a half. That's if I continue to meticulously edit this thing as I've been doing. I learned a few hours ago I am going to get a looong and much needed writing stretch coming up next week. Hubby gets a four day holiday. I will pluck and prune and hone while he is here with me, although, I am not sure at this point what I'm going to do with the finished product.