Every writer has one. Maybe we have more than one, yes, that half-finished jumble of paper stuffed in a drawer known as a manuscript. We think about it every now and then. Even pull it out when we have nothing else better to do and scan over a few of the best parts, wondering why it was never finished. We remember what it was like when we worked on it in earnest in front of the computer, in fourteen hour stretches, mesmerized by the limits of our own imagination to this -- a forgotten stack of paper.
..:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" />
Was it the friend that read your vision of perfect love, and who answered after a quick scan and evident amusement that you really should consider a course in Basic English? Mom, who looked over your dreams of success like she was correcting your 5th grade book report? Internet chums you begged for an opinion, who swore they read it, but couldn't remember one iota of the general plot when you canvass them?
New writers are plagued with insecurities, we remain desperate for praise, but even one off-handed remark or polite rebuff to our unfinished work can lead to the death of our dream. I personally fell into the same traps, it took me years to figure out I'm the only one who really loves my manuscript. No one sees the completed vision except for me, yet, here I was pushing off the incomplete work to somehow validate what I had already accomplished.
Your completed work is your validation, it's time to dust off the pages, and get back to work. Don't test your friendships, annoy Mom, and by no means start bouncing your work back and forth via email. Start living the vision, your vision. No one sees the world exactly like you do. Trust your instincts. Immerse yourself back into the long hours that pass in a flash after a productive day of creation. Get so lost in story that it consumes your whole life.
Now, you will know you're back in full writing mode when you confront the following issues. You've been writing since dawn, and you are down two pots off coffee and have eaten the entire package of baloney because adding bread just takes too much time. You are startled to discover it is now three in the afternoon and you have yet run a comb through your hair. Bed head isn't your only problem, you're going to have to do something about the pajamas before dinner as well. Bathing is also a good idea, but you're still staring at the computer screen. Your hero, Jack is just about to tell the woman he adores how he feels for the first time. What will he say? How should he act? What will be her response be to his declaration? The possible dialog sticks in your brain, and you think another cup of coffee just might dislodge it.
However, when you finally tear yourself away from the screen, another full hour has passed and Jack is no closer to professing his love. It's now time to start a fresh pot of coffee, and take that shower before the entire day gets away from you. Poor suffering Jack goes with you, and you remain so detached from the bathing process that when you apply conditioner to your hair, you begin to wonder if you actually washed it first.
Relatively clean, you have that "hallelujah" moment while you're dressing. You know exactly what Jack should say now and hurry back into the office with coffee and a cold hot dog, because that bun and microwave business – well you get the point.
Writing is a passion, but like any other art form, needs to be finished before it can be admired. No painter rushes in an audience to note the fabulous color of the background with only the pencil sketch of the main subject. Leave the reviews of the finished product in the hands of professionals. Let the final validation of your work be marked by its publication, and absolutely enjoy the crazy process of creation. Lastly, let us all be grateful to the producers of lunch meat, I would have starved without it while I was working on Forever.
Linda Ballard