Friday, July 15, 2011
The Promises we Make to Ourselves are Likewise Made to be Broken
Today is the 15th of July. You know what that means? Maybe you don't. Well, certainly you don't. Today is the day I'm supposed to turn in (to myself) a draft of my short story collection. Yep, those 4 stories I need to finish are supposed to be done by midnight and the whole thing is supposed to be sitting pretty on my harddrive awaiting revision.
Since I put that thing on my calendar I doubt I've written a sentence of that project. I've written plenty on some other projects. Some that are not so near complete. I wish I was telling you about a victory, but I'm not.
It was a deadline as unrealistic as the initial deadline. Which was at the end of May. I got that bright idea upon seeing the deadline for a great short story collection contest was May 31. I got this idea at about 3 am a week from May 1. I put up a tweet that read something like: "Planning to do the impossible."
And you know what happened after I put up that tweet. The next day I got some sort of sickness, the likes of which I hope I never get again. Throwing up outside my apartment building probably didn't make my neighbors love me. I wrote not a word for a week and then after I got better there was other stuff I won't relate here (you know the saying: hell is other people...yeah, that saying is apt). And then things got hectic at the dayjob. It is always hectic at this time.
The impossible never happened. And then the impossible didn't happen again.
It feels bad to have this thing hanging over my head. Always feels bad to have something to accomplish that you aren't accomplishing. Perhaps I'm working on too many projects. All my projects are talking to each other, I think. Enriching each other, but also slowing things down.
Just as I organized a writing/reading schedule I had to start teaching summer school and I don't think I adapted my writing/reading schedule well for that.
I need to slow it down. Not rush this project so much. Soon, I'll create a new deadline. It would be nice to make this one. Doing the impossible is overrated, I guess. My flash fiction project is going well, I think. I've been reading steady, really, I have. My novel is untouched. The summer's almost over.
Good luck, Rion.