Inspiration...
I just re-learned that I'm a good writer, in the sort of way that I only get to re-learn once a year: I began to read through the November novel.
And guess what? It's exceedingly less sucky than last year's! I may be making actual, distinct progress! Honestly, I've laughed at my own writing. I've remembered the way I felt when I was writing it, and I've realized that all I wanted to get through in the writing actually got through. I had to force myself to stop reading -- not something I usually have to do when I'm reading my own work, especially if it's not "clean" (edited). And yet, 17 pages in, I don't want to stop. This is an exceedingly good thing.
I think I might write this novel. I think I might get this novel published. (O my God, the p-word! Egads! Dios mio!)
Granted, it's got a long way to go. And probably it gets worse after the first 17 pages, anyway. But at the moment, in my mind, it is nothing other than good.
And guess what? It's exceedingly less sucky than last year's! I may be making actual, distinct progress! Honestly, I've laughed at my own writing. I've remembered the way I felt when I was writing it, and I've realized that all I wanted to get through in the writing actually got through. I had to force myself to stop reading -- not something I usually have to do when I'm reading my own work, especially if it's not "clean" (edited). And yet, 17 pages in, I don't want to stop. This is an exceedingly good thing.
I think I might write this novel. I think I might get this novel published. (O my God, the p-word! Egads! Dios mio!)
Granted, it's got a long way to go. And probably it gets worse after the first 17 pages, anyway. But at the moment, in my mind, it is nothing other than good.