FinishingJanuary 12, 2007
I am frustrated. I am a good completer-of-things. I get things done. I follow through. Why, then, why can't I finish a book?
I would like to finish writing a book. There. That's all I'm thinking this morning. The long novel, the 500+ page one, is within fifty pages of being done. Yes, I'm sure of it. The middle book, that's within a hundred pages. The Nanowrimo romance, that's within perhaps twenty or thirty pages of completion.
I know, of course, that these are rough drafts. First drafts. They can be changed, ripped apart entirely. I can get the ending done and redo it later. Why don't I just do it, then? Aargh.
I won Nanowrimo, which means that I wrote 50,000 words in November. See? Completion, of a sort. But the book wants to be about 75,000 words, though, which is why it isn't Done.
And so instead of sitting down daily to finish things up, I start things like Runagogo to distract myself. Wonderful, that thing has turned out to be. Scout was right to encourage the idea to have its own website. Now I'm hooked on watching it, watching people post. I'm spending time running. It's a Project, and I adore projects. I need projects.
I just want my project to be writing, you know? I'm so easily distracted by shiny things or timesaving devices or the internet or knit-design ideas or chocolate, and it's just so hard to sit down and write sometimes.
Also, I'm whiny. ONE MORE NIGHT and I'm done with midnight shift, possibly FOREVER. That is something to celebrate. Instead, I'm unreasonably irritated with my coworkers, with the temperature, with my brainwaves. My face is itchy from dryness. I want to brush my teeth. I would like to eat ice cream but I have none. I had the WORST RUN EVER today.
I have the mean reds. They're not bad, and they'll pass, but I will certainly be glad to get home and go to bed. I don't even dare knit -- I'll screw something up, and how.
Perhaps yogurt with granola will help. I'll give it a shot.