Finally, I’ve gotten around to tackling one of the main projects I started this blog for: my novel (one of several in progress, anyway).
So I tend to get a little protective/paranoid when it comes to my writing (hence also the ever-so-tiny verification snapshot of my one page), so I’m not divulging any details about plot and story. However, I will say it’s always been a life goal of mine to write a novel.
Of course, actually sitting down and hammering out the thing — especially when I’m not buoyed by one of those spontaneous moments of inspiration — is always the (oh-so-notorious) challenge.
I’d actually pinpointed as one of the very few perks of last year’s accident the fact that I could take a break from “life” (i.e. 9-to-5 slavery… I mean, employment) and tackle the many personal projects I’ve always wanted more time for. Trouble was, I tried to start by writing about my experience of becoming a paraplegic. It wasn’t the wisest decision, compounding the pain of my “new life” by immediately reliving it on paper, especially so early on in the coping process.
I got really good at procrastinating. I was sketching a lot, reading a lot, gardening a lot, and even teaching myself new skills, like watercolor and Portuguese. Basically, I was hard working at anything but writing. It’s amazing how productive you can be when you’re trying to avoid doing something else.
Even as I invest in what I feel are quite worthy projects, like becoming a better illustrator and actively preparing to travel the world again some day soon, I always have to ask myself: If I had to choose only one thing to do for the rest of my life, what would it be?
For me, that would have to be storytelling.
I have several ideas and unfinished drafts I’ve amassed over the years, just sitting on my desktop waiting for me to shower them with well-deserved attention. Now if I could just get over my self-critical self long enough chisel them into tangible form.
One page at a time.
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Future project idea:
- A koi fish plush doll: