Who needs to finish a project?
Not me, apparently.
My absolute favorite things to start and not finish are novels (4), cross stitch projects (7), crochet projects (I can’t even hazard a guess), the Bible (been reading a year and a half and still only about halfway through), and anything to do with weight loss (I’ve gained more than lost).
The bummer thing is that these are all things that I want to do. I love my novels. My first one was a romance novel that fizzled before I even hit the climatic point.
The second was a fantasy, with was started in 2001 when I was pregnant with my second daughter, which actually reached a completed rough draft manuscript in 2011 when I was fired from a job (might as well do something while I’m mooching unemployment and searching for a job. I got so sick of that story after 10 years that I couldn’t stand it anymore.
The third was a story I wrote for my first NaNoWriMo two years ago. I took the story into Michigan’s Upper Peninsula and at that point I got writer’s block. It was about a woman who left her family, just for a time, because they didn’t need her anymore and she was feeling tired of being a slave to their demands, their chauffeur, and their maid. Never finished.
And now I’m on my 4th and current novel, which started out as a prompt on fanstory.com about a year ago, and I loved it so much, and wanted to find out what happened to the main character that it became my basis for this novel. The rough draft was completed during last years NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month), and I’m a little over halfway done with the re-write. I already have a new idea for my next novel for November, so it’s crunch time for me to finish this second draft (more of a re-write, actually) by mid October at least, so that I can focus on something else for awhile.
I also write the occasional bad poem. My favorite is called The Tension Headache.
Heaviness weighs upon my shoulders
Fingers of tension creep up my neck
Into the base of my skull
Pulling and pulling
Tension stress headache pain
Until I want to scream in despair
But I can’t
Because I’m all grown up
Because I have failed my dreams
And lost myself
To the drudgery
Picture that written in purple letters, with a bright red background, LOL. (I could probably replicate that here, but I don’t know how yet)
Anyway, that is my writing life thus far. I start a writing group in a month for people who are serious about the craft. It’s taken me 40 years to become serious about the craft, and I’m ready to start finishing stuff. While working full time and raising 2 daughters.
Now there’s this part of me laughing hysterically, screaming out “Who writes a novel when she has a newborn, or a toddler, or a preschooler. Or when she’s going to college (Let’s say 2001-2006 were some crazy busy and interesting years)? I think there’s a few years that I can be forgiven. and after I graduated, I lost my passion for awhile. I forgot what it was that I really wanted, and that came back to me about 3 years ago when I got fired, because I hated myself so much, couldn’t get a job, and wondered if I was really cut out for my field.
Actually, I still wonder that sometimes about my day job.
But I KNOW I’m cut out for writing.
IF I can finish the job.