I was speaking to a writer friend and work colleague yesterday and, as usual, the discussion turned to our writing projects. He asked me how mine was coming along, and I told him I was hovering around 150,000 words at the moment, but at least I had the end in sight.
He said, “Finish the book already.”
Okay, okay, I know that. I wish it was finished. Boy, do I.
But I want this to be a really good story, too. I want to make sure I do it right. The process I’m using to create works well for me now. (see previous post), and, it’s enjoyable.
My friend is right, though. I need to finish it up.
Writing is such a balancing act. The process, the excitement, the doubt, the blank page, the endless pages, the clarity, the confusion . . .
At some point I will stop saying “I’m working on it” and instead say, “It’s finished.” But until then, I’ll enjoy the process.