I’m on a roll, you guys. I have my focus. I have my energy. I have a schedule that is working, holy balls is it working for me.
This is the year of finishing. It’s taking everything I have, but I will get there. To anyone out there who’s undertaking a creative endeavor of any kind: do not underestimate the power of finishing. It is hard, so very, very hard. I forgot how hard it was.
Finishing means that it’s “good enough.” Finishing means it’s ready to be seen. Finishing means that I am good enough to let it go and let myself be seen. I think that, in a nutshell, is why finishing is so hard for so many of us. Well…for me, at least. Finishing is inextricably tied to self worth, self esteem, and all that vulnerable shit that collects around our soft underbellies and makes us all cowards now and then.
So, yeah…I decided 10 months ago that I was going to FINISH this year. I’m 2 for 3 so far…a short story, a pilot script, and now a novel. All projects that had been started in 2014 or 2015, and all projects that hadn’t been finished…yet.
Right now I’m on the novel, and I have found a RHYTHM, you guys. 20 pages in two days, like it was NOTHING. I might even up my daily goal. We’ll see. Maybe add a page and see how much I can actually do in two hours’ time. But, in *just* over a month, I will be done with these major rewrites, and a massive, massive phase of the project. Then one more massive phase…because it will be the finishing phase.
That’s when all that self-doubt will rear its head the nastiest. But like the jabberwock, it’s not real, and it can be defeated with bravery.
Paid work is going swimmingly as well. I finished my goals on all fronts today. AND got to watch the World Series. Didn’t get to hang with the Ho at the end of the night, but that’s okay. She had shit she wanted to get done. In fact, Imma end this entry early and go sit with her for a few minutes on the couch before we both get ready for bed.
Night, bitches.
Artwork tonight is from Robert McCall.