In retrospect, I understand that I am tired. I think that’s why it’s hard for me to crank out the troll story as fast as I would like. I think that’s also why I haven’t been motivated to do the other creative non-writing project I had on tap for this summer.
I am a slogger. I make good on my threat to have a chapter of the troll story done a week in the revision. I have an agent waiting for some pages, which should motivate me to finish it sooner. But I’m tired. Still, this is not unreasonable progress. It’s just not my usual progress, and Type A woman feels inadequate.
I also feel that way about the curriculum I need to get done at work as well. I have made a great deal of progress given what they’ve had me doing otherwise, but not enough to meet my unforgivable and unforgiving personal deadlines.
Justification to self: Last year was a very full year so far, as far as writing went. I think the creative well needs to refresh a little, bounce back. This year’s been a very full year emotionally, and work has never slowed down. There’s a lot to wrangle to the ground. I shouldn’t feel inadequate. I am moving forward. Yeah. That’s it.
There’s that nagging voice in the back of my mind that tells me an editor wouldn’t care about my full plate, and I should be cranking it out anyway. I really hate the workaholic monkey when he decides to camp out on my shoulders. He’s full of deadlines and demands, not to mention unreasonable expectations.
It is true that we are hardest on ourselves. I have to keep repeating the mantra that I am moving forward steadily. I am not goofing off. Better to produce something good that takes time, than something fast, just because you are goal driven.
Inching. Not a Chinese fortune telling method. I hope you are all writing faster than I am, and feel good about what you’re writing.
Meanwhile, I keep trying to feed the Type A monkey bananas. I need a vacation from the monkey, but instead I’m retreating to the curriculum bunker. Because someone has to meet those work goals no later than the end of July, and Momma’s gotta keep her cats in tuna fish.
Catherine