It’s slow progress, but what I need to keep reminding myself is that it IS progress. I’ve managed approximately 2,000 words in the last week which is less that I would have liked but a far cry from no writing at all. It’s been a hectic week, with illness plaguing me all the way through it – so I need to cut myself some slack and focus on the acheivement of writing. If I don’t do that I’m going to become disllusioned and despondant, start believing that I can’t do it, and give up…only to start up again once I’ve dusted myself off and realised I’m being a coward for shying away from my dreams!
That’s the thing about those dreams that we have – the ones worth having take hard work and determination; they’re the ones that you feel you really earned at the end of it; the ones that others readily admit that they could never have done; the ones that light a fire under your heart and make it burn with passion, despite the length of time it takes to get there.
Things worth doing take time. My novel is currently undergoing some very complicated plot twists where the story all comes together and implodes in on itself so that the reader can make sense of all the little clues that have been scattered throughout the previous 50,000 words. It being a first draft, it’s not easy to manage all the different elements and characters that are residing in my head and translate all of that onto the page into something coherent. Yet, I’m making progress. I’m moving forward.
This is not a sprint. It’s a marathon, and while sometimes I may get scared and hide away in my shell – afraid that I’ll never finish the race – I am the tortoise and I will continue slow and steady until I reach the finish line.