Ploughing on through...kind of...

At the moment I'm supposed to powering through my rewrites, so that my novel will more or less be ready to publish by the end of October. Today, I opened up my diary, saw the big red underline under 31st October, and I didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

There's no way in hell I'm going to be able to do the amount of work I have to do in just a few short weeks - not unless I have the luxury of my summer holidays back, but alas, that comes but once a year...

And I think that's a huge part of my problem. I'm doing bits and pieces on my WIP, but ultimately, I think I'm stalling. I seem to be waiting for a magical long stretch of time to just open up in front of me so I can write without the bother of, y'know, actually going to work and having an actual life.

I read this post on the NY Times website, and although I'm not too sure whether I feel encouraged by it's message or scared, it has made me realised that the time to get on with my novel is now. Not in an hour, not at the weekend, not next week, now.

Which is why I'm currently staring at my screen, torturously writing one word at a time, as I attempt to finally get going on the final phase of this book. It's not even that I hate my novel (for once), or that I'm being overpowered by insecurities (which makes a change) - it's just that I'm simply being lazy.

I think my task for this weekend will be to find a way that I can work, without procrastinating so much. But until that day comes, I'm just going to have to keep repeating to myself that slow and steady wins the race...I hope...