maddening persistence

I feel a little like a mad woman this week. If you weren’t aware I finished editing the third draft of my first novel on Friday last week. I’ve been woking on said book for little over a year now. I promised myself I wouldn’t start another book till I was well into the publication process, because I have a tendency to leave projects unfinished. 


Well, I began writing the book I’ve been editing since last September, because I put aside a project I’ve had swimming around my head since I was a teen. Knowing that story I’m so in love, with deserved nothing but my best and I needed to practice in order to give it that. That in order to tell the story well, to do it justice, I had to let it rest while I worked on refining my own skills. 


Cried when I decided to give it a rest. I was, and still am, so deep in the belief that it will be a great story, one that hopefully touches hearts. So I’ve spent that last year and a half writing a different story, one I wasn’t even aware was stirring around inside of me. I am still more than committed to fishing my first novel out and publishing it for any and all to read, because to not share it would be a damn shame. 


But to explain why I feel like a mad woman, I woke on Monday morning with the words for the opening chapter of the story that’s been siting in my head since before I finished high school. The words were just there, in a way I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to explain. But they were there and they hounded me for two day before I gave in and wrote them down. You see, I’ve started and failed to write this story at least five times over and I wasn’t ready to fail at it again, and I’m stubborn. But come Tuesday morning they were still sitting in my head unchanged and unforgotten, which as someone with poor short term memory it was nothing short of miraculous. 


So I wrote them down, Tuesday afternoon, despite what I had promised myself about not starting another book till I finished the first one. Well writing them down meant I was far too excited to simply stop there, and I sat and wrote the first chapter and a half of what will be my second novel. 


Honestly I had a whole plan of when I was going to come back to this story, a goal to meet to feel like I was ready. And not for the first time in my life I find myself starting far before I feel ready. Something about that I suppose. 


So here I am, editing one novel, and beginning the first draft of another at the same time. Mad woman. But its brought me to tears realizing I get to work on the story sooner than I thought. How much sooner you may ask, I thought it would be another two or more years before I even got to look at this story. But thank goodness all the same, because this has been haunting me for years.  


I can imagine it will continue to haunt me till its been fully written and out in the world. But I can live with as long as I get to write it. Truly, I don’t think my gratitude as a writer has even been sweeter. Persistence, boarding on insanity, often leads one to sweet reward and answerd prayer. 

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