After struggling to make eye contact with the Book for what has turned into weeks, I have put twelve hours over the last three days into the current major edit. This new-found endurance started last week when I became suddenly and inexplicably more resolved to make quality time for me and the book.
I’m glad to have achieved even this small period of productivity, as I never put it away, but leave it neatly stacked on the corner of the coffee table. This has the effect of causing all actions that do not involve it to be tainted with guilt. It is my tell-tale heart, and was getting louder during my most recent attempts at procrastination. I don’t want to call it writer’s block. I didn’t stop writing. I didn’t even stop working on the project at hand. I just avoided the edit.
I’ve been putting off this red pen extravaganza for some time now. Even with the pages beating away in plain view It is easy to find things I would rather be doing than editing a hundred and thirty pages of text, and to prove this to myself I recently made the mistake of bringing new video games into the house. Despite this I have remained on task, and have tonight completed the first step of this edit.
It waits, neatly stacked, for tomorrow evening.
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