I’ve given up on short fiction (I wanted to write some sooooo badly this summer and return to what I think I’m best at but it just never happened for me) in favour of working on a second draft of the novel I’ve just completed. I prefer to edit things by hand, so I printed out the project and I held in my hand, for the first time ,the whole thing, all together. It made me very proud. I looked at it, read the first few pages, felt the weight of a novel — a novel — in my hands and realized, “I wrote this!” It’s really a wonderful matter of pride when you realize that you set out to complete a project and soon after, you hold it completed in your hands.
I started writing this novel almost exactly a year ago; last summer, at a loss for something to do, I decided to begin my novel so I was a LITTLE ahead of the game when it came time to submitting chapters to my professor for evaluation. That didn’t really happen for me, but I wrote out a small section and realized what the piece was going to be about, and I ended up using that section in the novel, though a vastly changed version of that section, and that was last year. Now the whole first draft is done and printed and ready to be dissected, and although it’s not EXACTLY the project I had in mind, it’s still my first completed NOVEL! And I hope if any writers are reading this right now, they can appreciate how it feels to write that first lengthy project and commit to it. It makes me very very proud and thrilled and I hope good things will happen to it someday when I polish up the arc. I’ve forgotten a lot of it and I can’t wait to re-visit it. It’s been months!
I feel like a little kid who paints a picture and shows it to everyone being like, “I did this!” It’s wonderful to feel that innocent sense of accomplishment again!
I hung my drapes too. Motivation? I’m wayyyy ahead of you still.