One project could easily consume my whole life.
I could re-edit, re-write and re-name one story forever. I would get tired, take breaks, come back and start all over. On and on and on. Over and over again.
I know, because I’ve done it.
And I keep telling myself that this is THE last time I’m going to edit the story currently known as MSR, but it keeps being a horrible lie because when I look at it again, there are SO many mistakes and imperfections and I just can’t leave it like that so I edit it…again.
This sounds like I’m a heroin addict or something.
I’m not addicted to anything. Except maybe perfection.
Leonardo Da Vince is quoted as saying “Art is never finished, only abandoned.” I don’t know about other forms of art, but this definitely applies to me and my writing.
I’ve realized over the last few months that I have to make a choice. I can keep editing and rewriting, on and on and on until it’s finally “perfect” and I’m ninety-three, and I die alone and unpublished. Maybe not alone. But having lived a dead-end life. And unpublished because I never finished anything to publish. I don’t like that plan.
Or, I can make this edit the last one and publish it whether it’s perfect or not.
And it won’t be perfect. But that’s OK. It’s my first novel. I’m going to grow up and get better and learn more, and my writing style will change. Maybe I’ll hate MSR someday. Maybe I won’t. It doesn’t matter.
What does matter is that I move on and keep working.
There is a time to stick to one thing. There is a time to try new things.
And there is a time to give up.