My last weekend before the official “writing period” of the Six Month Novel thing is over. So what am I doing? Writing a blog, of course. Anything to procrastinate.
I was once told that the reason I procrastinate so much with my writing is because of fear. That, as long as I don’t actually knuckle down and do something with these worlds in my head, then I haven’t failed. I’m still “trying”; no one has told me how terrible I am yet. And so, if I actually get something done and try to send it out there, then I’m inviting failure and I’m inviting rejection. And I’m not sure my delicate little being could take that.
But still, I’ve pushed through. Sure, I haven’t exactly been doing the disciplined every night thing, and have instead had long periods of nothing before a shorter period of frenzied creativity, but maybe that’s just the way I write best. I can’t stop once I start. None of this “well, that’s today’s 500 words”; I can’t stop mid-thought. I need to see it through. That’s one thing I’ve learned from this experience.
The other is this: once I get onto a good thing, I’ll do anything to sabotage it. Two weeks ago at my course-provided one-day retreat in Shoreditch, I cruised mid-way through the climax. I was convinced I could do it. I proclaimed, yes, dear people, I will make it. I will get this done. I will finish by 1 March and submit an actual first draft of a novel.
Of course, I then proceeded to sit on my arse for two weeks and do nothing.
Which brings us to today, the final weekend before submission. I’m still mid-way through that climax, and then I have an ending to sort out. I kinda know what to do, which will help. I will still keep that focus, and work my arse off until I hit “The end”.
I’ve just got to watch The Voice first…