So I was trying to get my creative juices going the other day — and having a terrible time of it — when I stumbled upon a manuscript I started years ago. I don’t want to say how many years, but it would be quite a few.
I started rereading it and said, “Hmmm. This is actually quite decent. It’s certainly not as bad as I thought it was. Why didn’t I finish it?”
Well, it took about a day and a half of reading through it before I hit the snag. Actually, snag isn’t quite the right word for it. The word would be pothole, or should I say, sinkhole, one big enough to sink a bus in.
Memories of all of my efforts, my struggles, to fix the darn thing, came rushing back to me. No wonder I gave it up. Sheer exhaustion.
So what am I going to do now. Struggle with it. Let’s see if a few years’ more experience — and distance — will help me better see the forest for the trees.
