So a friend and I were talking over our NaNoWriMo results. You know, the “something is better than nothing” evaluation. Oh, sigh.
Am I a fair-weather writer? I write often, but I become easily overwhelmed. I seem to do my best work in focused gusts.
My creative brain has a limited attention span? Dang. I’m no better than my middle and high school students. Except that I don’t bother with excuses anymore.
It’s like I’m a rubber ball writer. Into the sky I soar, overcoming every setback–elastic, rebounding, free! And then whoosh, I lose momentum, go flat, and hit the floor with a thump. And then I roll somewhere.
Funny thing, though. Soon I’m back to bouncing again. After I brush off the gunk I collected under the sofa.
I cranked out 27,000 NaNo words (may they be useful!) before November took me out. Not too shabby. Chapter by chapter, Darcy By Any Other Name grows. Chapter 30 will mark the end. I am on Chapter 27.
I would so like to be The Little Engine That Could. You know, someone who keeps chugging along, day in and day out, consistent and relentless. Instead I’m the rubber ball that keeps bouncing.
Quitting is fundamentally different from stopping.
The latter happens all the time. Quitting happens once.
Quitting means not starting again–and art is all about
~~ David Bales and Ted Orland, Art and Fear